<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Wolfsbane by yutatea</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146596">Wolfsbane</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutatea/pseuds/yutatea'>yutatea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bikers, Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Friends to family, Friendship, Hanahaki Disease, Heartbreak, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentioned KunTen, Mentions of Blood, Orphans, Street Racing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:57:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutatea/pseuds/yutatea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever cruised through the city at night, with the whirring of police sirens and the whoops of your friends echoing in the crevices of the buildings, shaking the peace and order of the urban society with the rumbling of engines? Have you ever fallen in love so slowly it was unnoticeable until you step back and recognise the feeling in your chest, years later? Have you ever loved so hard you've felt butterflies in your stomach, sparks in your heart, and flowers in your lungs?  Na Jaemin can attest to have done all those things, and nearly died along the way. </p><p>Alternatively, </p><p>Where Na Jaemin has flowers blooming in his chest for someone who will never love him back, and he fears the surgery because he knows he will lose all the love he was ever capable of holding, be it for the one who broke his heart, or his tight-knit family of five.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, implied Lee Donghyuck|Haechan/Mark Lee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wolfsbane</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>warnings | descriptions of blood, fear, and injury, mild profanity, implied sexual content</p><p>author's note | this is not proofread thoroughly, so i apologise in advance for any grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, or switch in tenses. also, i tried to do my best when it came to describing all parts and themes relevant to racing - i do not have extensive knowledge in this field and i did my research to the best of my ability, so i am sorry if there are any mistakes. also, aconite, or wolfsbane, does not work the way it usually would in this story. i took the liberty to be creative with the hanahaki disease and the way it works.<br/>this is a work of fiction - any of the personalities portrayed in this one-short is not a reflection of the idol's actual personality. any similarities to other works of fiction or real-life incidents are purely coincidental unless stated otherwise.<br/>i've had this in my drafts since april, and i've always wanted to write these pairings before. also, this is the first time i've written this a one-shot this long!! i hope you enjoy &lt;3 </p><p>also crossposted on| wattpad [addzthetic]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sparks danced around him in a flurry as he skidded across the pavement, tightening his core to balance himself on the bike as he attempted to weave his way through the crates and boxes set up as obstacles. He narrowly avoided crashing into a stack, his pulse racing and erratic when he halted.</p><p>Jeno always told him he would look a little crazy after every ride, eyes shining and a grin splitting his face in half. His blue hair would be messy from being under the helmet, and his neck would always have drops of sweat rolling down.</p><p>Jaemin loved the thrill of racing. The wind whipping dragging icy claws against the skin-tight suit he would force himself into, the revving of his engine crashing the peace of the night, hurtling down highways and lanes at speeds that made his surroundings nothing but multicoloured blurs. In that small world, where nothing existed but the pounding of his heart, the screaming of the wind, the thrumming of the engine and the flashing lights, he was the happiest. That was his home, his haven, what he desired the most.</p><p>He finds himself once again at the finish line, alone. There is silence as he whizzes past the line, a few seconds of deathly stillness, the calm before the storm, and then all hell breaks loose as the crowds understand what just happened. Screams, cheers, and praises for Na Jaemin, the leader of the Dreamers, a group of motorcycle racers, are on the tips of everyone's tongues. There's tension in the air and victory in his veins, especially when Donghyuck crosses the line second, with Seungcheol hot on his heels.</p><p>Jaemin grins as he slips off his vehicle, using the back of his heel to kick the stand down and ensure his motorcycle was properly resting its weight on it - after all, it deserved a break after the pressure he'd put it through. He greets Donghyuck with a fist bump, and together, they watch Seungcheol dismount.</p><p>As much as Jaemin dislikes being involved in turf wars, any direct challenge to his authority over an area forced him to race to ensure he could still keep his home. He couldn't deny the satisfaction it gave to be able to win and see someone acknowledge and bow before his authority. Despite that, he holds Donghyuck back from being theatrical and truly rubbing their victory in the opposing group's face, and merely steps forward. He extended a gloved hand, which Seungcheol accepted, shaking his hand firmly. "You played well." The man said gruffly, swiftly glancing back to the remaining men behind him, them all nodding in resignation.</p><p>"You too." Jaemin nodded, stepping back. Seungcheol gave him a wry look. "I hope to race you again someday." He said as he slung himself over the midnight black vehicle, to which Jaemin snorted. "Hopefully not for territory." He said, a slight edge to his words. "Stay off these areas for a while, true to your word, yeah?"</p><p>The man nodded, fastening the last straps of his helmet. His hands revved up the engine, the loud noise piercing the air thick with tension and triumph, and soon, the only signs the rival gang stood in front of them were the dust trails from their motorcycles.</p><p>The noise was dispersing along with the crowd - while most loitered around like they usually did after the race to ensure most evidence was cleaned up or well-hidden, the approaching onset of the extremely early mornings brought with it a thick blanket of silence, because with it came the police patrols on their last round.</p><p>Jeno makes his way over to Jaemin, looking impressed. "That's got to be a new record," He whistles, and Jaemin shoves his arm, before slinging a shoulder around the other. "We," He announces to the other, "Are going to make Renjun cook breakfast for us."</p><p>"We," Donghyuck joins them, slinging an arm around Jaemin's waist as the three of them awkwardly stumble towards their bikes. "Are not going to do that. Renjun can barely make ramen without setting something on fire in the kitchen, much less a celebratory breakfast."</p><p>"That sounds more like you than him," Jeno raises an eyebrow, and Donghyuck sticks his tongue out in response. "The point is," Donghyuck says, "We won, so no one is going to bother us for the area for a while unless they're either really stupid or really desperate." Jaemin hums in agreement, eyeing the people before his eyes catch onto the flash of colour among the parts of the crowd that were dispersing.</p><p>"127 came to watch the race?" He asks Jeno, who looks surprised. "Why would they want to come to watch our turf match?" Jeno frowns, and Donghyuck huffs. "They've been wanting this territory for ages, haven't they?" He shrugs. "They were probably going to challenge Seungcheol's gang to a match if they won." Jaemin hums, eyes following the bright pink of Taeyong's hair, before he turns his gaze onto the man next to him, and freezes. "The man's lips are curved into a smile. Jaemin feels heat race up his neck, ears possibly turning red, and he arches an eyebrow when the honey eyed boy gives him a wink before he turns away and leaves.</p><p>His eyes darted back to Jeno and Donghyuck, relieved to see neither were paying attention and were instead squabbling over what they would be able to eat that day.</p><p>Jaemin lets out an airy laugh, pinching Jeno's cheek as he separates the two. "Let's go home," He says. "The others are probably waiting."</p><p>The triumphant moment is broken by the wailing of police sirens. Jaemin feels a flood of adrenaline and panic rush through his system as he watches the remnants of the crowd that had come to witness the street race scramble back like a pack of frightened rats at the sound of a possible arrest.</p><p>He ran his hands through his bright sapphire locks stressfully as he shoves on his helmet, slipping himself onto his bike while hastily fastening it on properly, and then they were off, Donghyuck and Jeno hot at his heels as they ripped through the empty streets that were now marked with the skid marks from the burnt rubber wheels.</p><p>Once again, they disappear into the shadows of the night once again, the poison and toxic pests of the city that gnawed and tore at the foundation of the urban world, lurking and rising in dark waves of rolling evil and screaming of engines.</p><p>But he wouldn't have it any other way, even with the near-death instances and the constant scraping of his knees and elbows on asphalt, even with the constant cries and screams of injured riders, with all the threats and malice. Even with all the violent and twisted love and misery, the underworld is his home, and he finds solace cruising and riding through the streets of Seoul on his baby blue motorcycle as he races for control and domination over a district.</p><p>Jaemin never thought he would love anything more than his races and racers, more than the wild whoops carried on the icy backs of wilder winds, or the frustrated yells of policemen when they once again slipped out from their pathetic grasp.</p><p>Na Jaemin was at the top of the world as he tore through the streets, he was at the top of the game, and he grinned, knowing there would be no way he would fall. But even then, he knows he isn't infallible to injury- he just never guessed it would be his heart.</p><p> </p><p>He was breathless as fingers trailed across the expanse of his stomach, leaving a trail of fire wherever the rough pads of fingertips caressed his exposed skin.</p><p>Chapped lips left soft butterfly kisses down the nape of his neck, as an arm braced itself around his chest, pulling him to rest his back against the broad frame of the older. He let out a ragged gasp when teeth grazed his skin, head falling back to rest against the firm shoulder.</p><p>His chest constricted tightly, tighter than ever before, but he ignored the signs that roots were growing faster, curling around his lungs, bringing him a slow death as he fell deeper in the abyss of unrequited love as he sat there, surrounded by the warmth of a body that held him gently, whispering words that meant nothing, covered in vacant touches.</p><p>He ignored the burn in the back of his throat when he was turned around, placing his knees on either side of the man's hips, hands cupping his jaw as he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to chapped lips. Jaehyun stared at him through his lashes, eyelids fluttering shut as Jaemin leaned down once again, hands running up his sides and below his shirt.</p><p>The adrenaline rush this brought him could compare to the ones he got on the seat of his bike, gloved hands pulling back the accelerator as the wind bit at any exposed skin as a warning of the dangers to come as he weaved his way through once empty streets that were now thrumming with energy and vibrating with the sound of cars and bikes alike racing down the paved pathways.</p><p>"You raced well yesterday," Jaehyun mumbled against his lips, the setting rays of Apollo's stead illuminating the soft sheen of sweat across the tanned melanin skin. Jaemin's heart skipped a beat as he slowly rolled his hips, breath ghosting over the older's jawline as he left a mark, the only evidence that he'd been with the other that evening. "I know." He whispered, and a smirk quirked the corners of his lips up ever so slightly when he heard the other's breath hitch.</p><p>Strong hands encircled his waist, and suddenly he's back was pressed against the couch, Jaehyun hovering over him with dark eyes and the devil's smile painted over sculpted features, high cheekbones that Jaemin ran his thumb over and a button nose that he would often brush against Jaemin's as an affectionate gesture.</p><p>The affection that meant nothing, for if it did, the blue-haired boy would not find himself bent over in the bathroom at three in the morning, clutching his throat as he coughed up blood and purple petals, desperately ignoring the ache in his legs and the fire in his chest in order to keep quiet and not whimper so that he wouldn't disturb the male sleeping soundly in the other room, dimpled cheeks pressed against a silk-covered pillow.</p><p>If only Jaehyun cared for him, Jaemin lamented as he stumbled out the door with his bag in hand, racing equipment inside clinking a little too loudly for his liking.</p><p>If only he didn't love Jaehyun, Jaemin thought as he dressed himself, pulling a shirt over his loose shirt when he felt the chilly winds of the witching hour caress the skin of his arms. He watched his bike come closer and closer as he walked forward, yanking his helmet out of the mess in his bag, hand falling limply at his side with the object held in his fingers. All he could see when he looked at the mirror were his own large eyes looking back at him with pain and pity, disappointment yet understanding.</p><p>He was his own demon, his own enemy, but the lines of victory and loss in this war were possibly the most blurred they'd ever be in history, because in the end, at the bottom of it all, Jaemin was going to die. A paradox, his brain supplied. His death would be a paradox because of his own heart, because he would have defeated himself and won, but his death would result in his loss. A paradox.</p><p>The knowledge didn't make him feel any better.</p><p>If only he loved someone else who would love him back the way he wanted, he sighed as he slung a leg over the leather seat and leaned forward, elbows leaning briefly on the upper fairing, face pressed into his hand as he shook, and broke. Tears blurred his vision as he let out a sob, and the tightness in his chest only grew with each breath he took. Jaemin was drawn as thin as a taut wire, and he was wondering how long it would take for him to snap.</p><p>Routine, he reminded himself as he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and roughly wiped away the tears. Just fasten your helmet, start the bike, and go home, he thought, fingers moving slowly across the straps that dug slightly into his lower jaw as he tightened them, making sure the helmet was secure. The silence was shattered by the loud snapping of the visor as he pulled it down, and then the revving of the motorcycle.</p><p>It was just routine, he thought as he turned around and set off down the road. It was all just a mindless routine, and feelings were never meant to get involved.</p><p>Jaemin wondered if routine was supposed to hurt so much.</p><p>If only Jaehyun kissed him like he was in love too, looked at Jaemin with the same stars in his eyes as he did with others, pressed kisses to his forehead and rubbed soothing circles over the back of his hand, lent him his shirts and hugged him when he was down.</p><p>If only the older loved him, Jaemin thought as the wind whipped through his hair and soothed his heated skin.</p><p>Parking the bike, he slipped off his shoes as he walked into the house, sighing as an amalgamation of sorrow and fondness stirred in his chest upon seeing Jeno and Jisung curled up on the couch, sound asleep, and quite possibly waiting for him.</p><p>Jaemin walks forward, before shaking Jisung awake gently. The younger's eyes flutter open slowly, which is better than most days when he's asleep on the couch and Jaemin has to carry him back to his bed. He gestures for Jisung to walk to his shared room with Renjun silently, and Jisung nods, eyes sleepily flitting to Jeno's asleep figure as he extracts himself from the older, socked feet padding lowly against the floor as he moves and disappears behind the door.</p><p>Jaemin stares down at Jeno, before leaning down and ruffling the other's hair. Jeno shifts lightly, and Jaemin knows he's awake when he slings an arm around Jaemin's waist, pulling him closer. "Stay here," He rumbles lowly, and Jaemin shakes his head, gently tugging at the half-asleep boy. He lets Jeno wrap his arms around his torso completely, nearly carrying him as he makes their way to their room.</p><p>The devil isn't someone many people wanted to meet, but Jaemin had knelt down and looked him in the eye. To him, the devil had black locks and dark brown eyes, a strong jaw and lips permanently lifted up in a smirk. To him, the devil was Lee Jeno, and he had him under his thumb, just like Jeno had him wrapped around his own finger. They were marionettes, puppets in a play with no puppeteer so they took control of each other's strings and walked their way through life together.</p><p>Even if the world was going to end, Jaemin knew that Jeno would always have his back, be it whether to drive a knife into it on request or to protect it from any on-coming weapon. Jeno carried the team when Jaemin couldn't, he cared for Jaemin when the boy couldn't care for himself, he loved Jaemin when he couldn't - but even then, he knew he couldn't stop the flowers from blooming in his friend's lungs.</p><p>Jaemin coughed as quietly as he could into his open hand, sitting up as he pinched a petal between his fore and middle finger, admiring the obsidian piece of beauty, and wondered if this was a gift of independence in some sick way. Beside him, Jeno shifted slightly in his sleep, rolling onto his side. Jaemin glanced over, watching as the boy's breathing evened out, before letting out a sigh.</p><p>He crushed the petal in his palm, before tossing it under his pillow and sinking back into the mattress, throwing his arm over Jeno's waist. They had always thought they would be intertwined forever, be it in a tangle of limbs at three am, when both were fast asleep, or merely a single twisted soul consisting of their darkened ones merged. He could feel Jeno's steady breathing, and if he pressed his chest to other's back close enough, he could feel the thrumming of a slow heartbeat. It was comforting, to know that at least his heart slowed down at least in his sleep, when he didn't have a race to win or someone to run from.</p><p>Jaemin's social science teacher had once told him in fourth grade that he only had a certain number of breaths he was allowed to take before he died. He should learn to be calm, quiet, and patient in order to not waste his limited amount of oxygen intake. Jaemin hadn't listened, and the minute the bell had rung, he had leaped off his chair and raced out of the class, ignoring the infuriated yell to not run in the corridors.</p><p>Now, listening to the rattle of breath in his lungs as the vines curled around his organs and creeped up his ribs, he wished he had listened to her and savoured each breath. Staring at the back of Jeno's head, where the messy locks tangled at the nape of his neck, Jaemin felt a surge of sorrow rise in his chest. Tears pricked the back of his eyes, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt sorry he would have to leave Jeno.</p><p>Jaemin was a lover, and this time, it seemed like his love would be the very end of him. and Jaemin just felt sorry that he wouldn't be with Jeno forever.</p><p>"Are you okay?" The rasp made him flinch as he focused on Jeno turning his head, eyes fluttering open and shut in drowsiness. Jaemin let out a breath, nodding. "Yeah," He smiled. "Why?" "Could hear you thinking," Jeno mumbled sleepily. Jaemin laughed, gently pressing Jeno's head back down onto the pillow, before returning his hand to its place on his waist and tightening his hold around Jeno's midriff. "Go back to sleep," He whispered, and he heard a noise of affirmation, before silence once again.</p><p>Curling himself to blanket Jeno's figure just right, he let out a deep breath, ignoring the echoes of the harsh sounds in his lungs, and shut his eyes. The devil was the warmest person he knew, he thought as he began to drift into the welcoming embrace of sleep. The devil was selfless, loving, and so caring.</p><p>His heart hurt at the thought of leaving him alone in a world of monsters. Tears pricking the corners of his eyes, he draws comfort from the warm, sturdy figure of Jeno beside him, and allows himself to be lulled to sleep by the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.</p><p>And if Jeno remembers how he slipped into the house so late at night (or early in the morning), or even the slightly damp spots on his shirt where Jaemin's head had lain, he says nothing, and merely greets Jaemin with a soft smile and a cup of coffee as sunlight streams through the window in the morning when Jaemin is jolted awake at Donghyuck's screech in response to finding out Chenle finished the cereal.</p><p>Surrounded by boys he calls family, Jaemin mulls over the acts of idiocy that could send his fantasy-like reality crashing to the ground like the dominoes he sees Renjun stack up on his desk and topples over when he's bored.</p><p>And deep down, he knows it is all because Jaemin was harbouring flowers in his lungs for Jaehyun, but the older only had stars in his eyes for another.</p><p> </p><p>"And Jung Jaehyun once again proves why he's known to be the wolf in sheep's clothing, overtaking Wang at the last second and crosses the finish line with less than hair's breadth between them- GIVE IT UP FOR THE WINNER OF TODAY'S RACE, 127!"</p><p>Donghyuck snorted, slinging an arm around Jaemin's shoulders as the two of them stood by the pit when Jaehyun pulled up, greeted by the others of his team as soon as he stepped out of the car. "Got lucky again," He whispered snarkily under his breath, and Jaemin shook his head as he eyed the car. "She's light," He murmured to himself.</p><p>Donghyuck narrowed his eyes at the said car, before nodding. "I guess it is," He said simply. "But I'll always prefer a bike." Jaemin gave a half-hearted shrug in agreement, before nudging the other with his hip. "Let's go back," He said quietly. "You got the show you wanted."</p><p>Donghyuck let out a whine at that, lips forming a pout as he tugged on Jaemin's sleeve. "Let's do something fun before going home," He suggested, running his fingers through his hair before his eyes lit up. "Do you want to dye your hair?" He said excitedly, and Jaemin just sighed.</p><p>Before he could reply, a loud "Hey!" caught their attention. Jaemin whipped around, watching as Mark Lee walked out of the stadium exit, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans casually. "What are Dreamers doing on our territory?" He raised an eyebrow, lips curving up into a smirk the second Jaemin felt Donghyuck tense up beside him. "Last we checked, the stadium isn't 127 territory." He said snarkily.</p><p>Mark looked amused, nodding mockingly. "You guys came to watch the race?" He gestured with his chin to the stadium. "Yeah," Jaemin agreed quietly. "Congratulations on the win." Mark pursed his lips, before smiling. "Thanks," He replied, glancing back. "I think Taeyong and I are going to go grab some snacks." He turned back to them, fixing his eyes on Donghyuck. "What do you say we call a truce for a bit and go together?"</p><p>Donghyuck stood still beside him, staring wide-eyed at Mark when Jaemin turned to look at him. Sighing, Jaemin opened his mouth to reply but was cut off before he could reply for the second time that night when a few others walked out of the stadium. His eyes landed on Jaehyun, fingers intertwined with another of his team - Doyoung - as he let out a full-dimpled smile.</p><p>Jaehyun looked beautiful, eyes in small crescents, with his hair mussed up and falling in his eyes, which Doyoung reached up to brush out. He watched a soft blush settle on the other's cheeks, he noted the sparkles in his irises as he stared at Doyoung, he watched the way his fingers tightened momentarily as they interlocked themselves more securely in Doyoungs hand.</p><p>Suddenly, his heart hurt, because Jaemin was truly a fool. Just because he'd known he'd never be the one Jaehyun looked at like that didn't make it any easier to accept. To see reality spit the fact in his face so blatantly made him sick. He wondered if the bitter taste on his tongue and the burning sensation in his throat was the wolfsbane that grew his lungs or the less than gentle tug back to reality.</p><p>He felt an incoming wave of nausea, nearly doubling over on the spot as he pressed his hand to his mouth. That snapped Donghyuck out of his daze, and he heard his friend crouch down, concern thick in his voice. "Jaemin?" He asked, eyes wide.</p><p>"Hey, are you..." Mark stepped forward, trailing off as Jaemin straightened up, waving him off. "Sorry," He rasped out, refusing to look at Jaehyun, who he could see stare at him in surprise out of the corner of his eye. "I feel a bit sick." He turned to Donghyuck, silently pleading with the other, who stared at him silently for a few seconds, before nodding.</p><p>"Thank you for the offer, Mark," Donghyuck said, sparing a glance at the other, before pulling Jaemin closer. "We'll take you up on a grocery run some other time, though." Jaemin nearly laughed at the way Mark's eyes widened comically, the tips of his ears turned red. Donghyuck looked like he wanted to say more, before his eyes flickered over the rest of the men filtering out of the stadium, and then back to Jaemin. His mouth snapped shut, and his finger closed around Jaemin's arm in a death grip.</p><p>"Not a single word," He breathed as he ushered Jaemin towards his bike, ensuring the other had put his helmet on safely, before stopping and looking at him dead in the eye. He took a deep breath, before asking, "Are you okay, Jaemin?"</p><p>Jaemin averted his gaze, eyes dropping from Donghyuck to his hands as he leaned against the beaten-up vehicle. He pressed his lips into a thin line, before releasing a long sigh, and with it, an honest answer. "No," He looked at Donghyuck, who's eyes softened. "But I'll get better," Jaemin said, flashing him his signature smile, the one that he gave the boys when wiping their tears or consoling them over a loss - not that they'd had one any time recently. Jaemin gave Donghyuck a smile like he wasn't the one hurting. It seemed like lying was becoming second nature to Jaemin. He wasn't going to get better, and he wasn't at the top of the world anymore. Not with aconite burning him from inside out.</p><p>But as Shakespeare had once said about one of his characters, he was making a sinner out of his own memory to credit his lies. He could believe he was fine, that he was going to be fine, and that he would continue to be fine for the rest of all eternity until he lay in a grave and his bones slowly crumbled to dust, all to ensure his own team was comfortable in this web of lies he was spinning. It would be cushiony and cosy enough of them for them to not want to peer at the reality for a while. They wouldn't have to know Jaemin is dying because he got his heart unknowingly broken.</p><p>He could tell himself he was being selfless, when he was the most selfish person to exist. He didn't want to think about how utterly bruised they'd be when reality hit them.  All he could do now was continue to feed them more lies.</p><p>He looked at Donghyuck, who looked back at him, before nodding with a light smile. "Alright, then." He said, tilting his head. "Let's go home."</p><p>Home. The boys were his home.</p><p>He was going to have to leave his home behind. He wondered if the afterlife had something that something as comforting as Donghyuck's hugs.</p><p>Probably not.</p><p>Death seemed lonely, and Jaemin wasn't sure he was ready to face that yet.</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin dreams of the first time he met Jaehyun.</p><p>It had been when the 127, the older gang had finally acknowledged the presence of the Dreamers, the little motorcycle gang made of kids a good generation younger than them, but just as powerful.</p><p>Jaemin knew they were near-unparalleled in races. He was young, wild, and willing to risk his life just for a single burst of adrenaline. He had been winning races since he was a child, having developed a reputation for himself, with Jeno right by his side the whole time. Jaemin was the leader of their little hooligan group, as termed not so kindly by the grandmothers who yelled at them as they drove past their balconies and open windows.</p><p>They were the Dreamers, a small biker gang consisting of youth, with hot blood and fiery tempers, desire and passion forced into one explosive mould, creating wild and wanton youngsters, hearts beating to the rhythm of their own drums.</p><p>When he had his suits and gloves on, helmet on his head and seated on his bike, surrounded by Jeno, Donghyuck, Jisung, Chenle and Renjun as they raced away from police sirens, he felt invincible. They were invincible.</p><p>Unfortunately, being territorial also came with age, apparently. The older gang of 127 hadn't taken kindly to being challenged, with their huge egos and cars built for noise and speed, sleek brightly coloured vehicles that could send you flying with the softest, feather-light touch as they whizzed past you.</p><p>The tension began slowly when the youngest member, Mark Lee, would give disapproving tuts as he would stand at the corner of the abandoned amusement park, watching them practice. Jaemin would snarl at him to get out, which is when his lips would curl into a triumphant smirk and he would turn away, complying.</p><p>He seemed hell-bent on tormenting Donghyuck the most, getting an absolute kick out of it every time the other would retaliate with another snarky comment. Eventually, that died down, the rivalry solely existing of Donghyuck's sheer willpower and pettiness.</p><p>Maybe that's why Mark had been so surprised when Donghyuck had spoken to him when he offered to let them tag along to the nearest convenience store at the stadium, Jaemin thinks long after he wakes up. Being used to a year of nothing but sharp insults and words heavy enough with malice to physically leave blue, green and purple bruises on their bodies if they could, hearing a sentence that was actually civil to him must've been quite the shock for Mark.</p><p>Nevertheless, he always thought Donghyuck had been justified in continuing to be snarky towards the other, especially when the rival racers made it a point to show up to every other race the Dreamers participated - especially those which won them entire territories. The cold hostility would only increase whenever they retaliated back by purposelessly racing down the streets of 127 territories, revving their bikes and whooping as loud as they could, flinging stones and spray painting the walls.</p><p>Jaemin had dragged them out at three am one fine day, forcing the half-asleep group to help him spray paint something across the wall of the abandoned compound that stood right outside the old student house the entirety of 127 lived in. With each letter they put up, the more awake each of them became, until the six of them stepped back in unison, satisfied smiles on their faces. Jaemin had hidden out in the bushes a little farther away, Jeno choosing to camp out with him just to see the reactions their masterpiece would receive.</p><p>It was worth it, despite having dozed off on Jeno's shoulder, only to be woken up by the slamming of a door. He'd flinched awake, eyes widening as he watched Taeyong walk out onto his balcony. For all the authority and intimidation he oozed on the racing track, he looked downright adorable as he stretched his arms over his head and yawned, looking out onto the street in his pastel pyjamas. If Jaemin hadn't disliked the man so intensely, he might have even cooed.</p><p>It was downright comical when Taeyong's sleepy gaze fell onto the bright slogan the six of them had painted on the compound. His jaw fell slack and his eyes went wide before he whirled around and stormed back into the house. If Jaemin listened hard enough, he could hear several thumps and groans, before Taeyong burst out of the front door, dragging a half-naked man - Johnny, if he remembered right - out of the door, the other holding a shirt in his hand, blinking blearily and haired messed up. Jeno snickered, nudging Jaemin in the ribs, making him smile as well. He pitied Johnny, he probably had been dragged straight out of bed.</p><p>"Look!" Taeyong said, voice too shrill for it to be his morning voice, pointing avidly to the slogan, shaking Johnny's arm rather vigorously. The other stifled a yawn as he rubbed his eyes, attempting to shrug on the shirt half-heartedly before giving up and peering at what Taeyong was pointing at.</p><p>'DREAMERS FIGHT BACK' was sprayed boldly with black paint in the centre. Jaemin had permitted Renjun and his previously unknown artistic side to go wild, forcing Jisung to lift him up with groaning too much as he used every possible colour in the cheap set Jaemin had bought from the corner store to create as abstract a splash of colour he could.</p><p>All in all, it was too vivid to be ignored, and definitely aesthetically pleasing to look at. Jaemin thought they'd done Taeyong a favour by brightening up that drab wall, and clearly, Johnny thought the same. The other tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, arched an eyebrow, and slowly said, "Well, at least they've got style."</p><p>"At least one of the stuck up grandpas has a sense of humour," Jeno whispered beside him, and Jaemin let out a breathy laugh. Maybe if he hadn't been so absorbed in just exactly how expressive Lee Taeyong was with just his face, he would've seen a third person coming their way.</p><p>"Well, what do we have here?"</p><p>Jaemin whirled around, and came face to face with Jung Jaehyun. His messy lilac locks fell down in waves, his eyes twinkled like the stars Jaemin would stare at during the night, and his lips were curved into a cocky smirk. "Good hiding place," The man said approvingly, arms crossed over his chest, and Jaemin was most definitely not staring at the way his arms looked in a sleeveless t-shirt. "But you're still exposed from some angles, especially my window." He pointed upwards, but neither Jaemin nor Jeno let their eyes stray from him.</p><p>Looking back, Jaemin wondered if he should have just gone with the rest, Renjun, Chenle and Jisung forcibly dragging Donghyuck away as he complained about how the entire area wasn't big enough to house Mark Lee's ego and it was a bit too cramped.</p><p>Three quick taps on the small of his back, and Jaemin got the signal from Jeno. They needed to run. That was the first time he had ever met Jaehyun. It didn't really end well, with Jeno and him leaping up from the bushes and scrambling away from the older, running as fast as they could to get to their bikes.</p><p>And even though Jaemin wakes up from the memory with a smile on his face, the ache in his chest doesn't subside. He tries hard to ignore the weight of Jeno's gaze as he stumbles out of the bathroom an hour later, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe at the blood on his mouth that had been washed away half an hour back. Jaemin wonders if this is how it will end, and while a week ago he seemed to have been okay with that, he can suddenly think of a hundred different ways he would rather die.</p><p>For now, though, he forces himself to sit at the table and watch Chenle attempt to teach Jisung a little bit of Chinese, and he smiles, because that's all he can do now. Just savour the time he has left, and when Death comes for him, he'll try his best to put up a fight.</p><p> </p><p>Two days later, he walks straight into Taeyong. Literally. He'd been too busy mulling over the unnecessarily long grocery list Jisung had texted him, mentally crossing out every third item he saw (because why on earth would the child need six packets of jelly beans, ukulele strings and a very specific type of glue gun). He had the sudden urge to cough, an overwhelming wave of panic washing over his senses before he glanced around and coughed into his fist. No more than five seconds later, he crashed straight into the silver-haired man because he'd been distracted by how much more crimson stained the purple petals were this time.</p><p>"Oh, shit, I'm sorry- oh." His eyes widened when Taeyong turned around, eyes narrowed before he relaxed lightly upon seeing Jaemin, faint surprise on his face. "Hi," He said, a smile gracing his lips. Jaemin swallowed, tongue darting out to lick his lips for any traces of blood as he shoved the two petals in his hand quickly into the rather small pocket of his jacket as he glanced around the store for a sign of any other 127 members he might have missed, just waiting to ambush him for something, before he turned back warily to Taeyong. "Hello," He said slowly, praying to God the older man hadn't noticed anything. If he did, he gave no indication of it.</p><p>"Where's your little band?" The older asked curiously, looking over his head as if he'd find any of them there. "I could ask you the same," Jaemin arched an eyebrow, and Taeyong smiled at that. "Johnny's at the back," He said, gesturing vaguely in the said direction. "It's surprisingly difficult to find the dairy section." He looked at Jaemin, eyes dropping down to his shoes. "You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you?" He asked sheepishly.</p><p>Jaemin blinked, mildly weirded out at how seemingly normal Taeyong was acting with him, like they weren't at each other's throat every other second of their lives. Regardless, one glance around the bustling grocery store told him he was safe enough - neither of them were stupid enough to start a fight in the middle of shopping. Plus, he could get Jisung an ice-cream to make up for everything else he wasn't even going to try and search for in the supermarket.</p><p>Nodding, he gestured for Taeyong to follow him, setting off down the maze of aisles. The two of them walked in silence. It was clearly awkward, but Jaemin managed to distract himself enough to not think about the petals in his pocket, feeling as heavy as rocks, by scrolling through the rest of the grocery list, having let out at least ten angry scoffs by the time he was done with it.</p><p>"Something got you irritated?" Taeyong inquired, and Jaemin glanced at him, tilting his head, before shrugging. "Jisung is the worst person to plan out the grocery items for the week," He said, sighing. "I need to cross out half of this and probably come back tomorrow, just to make sure we actually have food to eat and not an attempt at another invention."</p><p>"Jisung's your youngest?" Taeyong asked, and Jaemin nodded. Taeyong sighed almost empathetically, patting Jaemin's arm. "I get that," He said. "Mark's a cute kid and all, but honestly, if he didn't live with us, he'd probably die within a week." "Jisung puts our lives at risk almost on the daily," Jaemin grumbled, recalling today's attempt at making breakfast which set off the fire alarm and woke him up from his sleep,  which had lasted approximately three hours, all because Chenle told Jisung he was better at making fried eggs than the latter.</p><p>"Sounds fun," Taeyong laughed. They lapsed into silence again, until they reached the back of the store. Jaemin glanced around for sight of the mentioned boy, but there was no towering six-foot giant man anywhere in sight. Alarm bells went off his head, a shrill din he wasn't able to drown out until he saw Taeyong's look of confusion as well.</p><p>"Maybe he didn't find the dairy section yet," Taeyong sighed, bringing a hand up to rub his temple. "He's going to die lost in the supermarket."</p><p>Jaemin smiled at that. "Just get what you need." He gestured with his chin to the food. "You can find Johnny later, I think."</p><p>"Let's hope." Taeyong shook his head, before leaning down and looking at the packets of cheese. Jaemin walked a bit further down, wondering if he'd find any of his favourite ice-cream flavours available then. "I actually needed to talk to you," Taeyong called out. Jaemin paused, fingers pinching the cover of an ice-cream bar before he pursed his lips and glanced sideways.</p><p>Taeyong didn't look threatening, neither did it seem like he was trying. No, in fact, it looked like he was trying his best to look as friendly as possible, hands out in a placating manner and a warm, awkward smile on his face that looked a little out of place. Jaemin appreciated the sentiment, but he wasn't in the mood for arguments related to his team or races today. He let Taeyong know that very clearly too, and the other blinked, before shaking his head vigorously.</p><p>"No, no, I'm not here to talk about that," He said, glancing around nervously. They weren't alone per se, but the place was deserted enough for Taeyong to be able to walk closer to Jaemin and talk in a hushed voice without the fear of being overheard.</p><p>Jaemin raised an eyebrow as the older neared, before shifting his attention back to the assortment of ice-cream flavours in front of him. It was his attempt at looking as nonchalant and unbothered as he could, but his heart was racing and his fingers were trembling ever so slightly as he pulled down one of the sweets and peered at the price.</p><p>"Normally," Taeyong began quietly, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Taeyong had his gaze fixed on him, and solely him. "Normally I stay out of the love life of members," Taeyong said. "It isn't my business who they want to mess around with, as long as it doesn't come between us or ruin any sort of race or opportunities for the team."</p><p>Jaemin gave a soft hum of acknowledgement, already able to guess where this was going. "And, uh, I just," Taeyong looked at the shelves, before completing his sentence. "I know we're not particularly close, and I know there's a slim chance we ever will be, but in a way, I guess this is me looking out for you."</p><p>Jaemin turned his head, locking eyes with Taeyong as the next words left his mouth. "You know Jaehyun is in love with Doyoung, right?"</p><p>Chenle's childish retaliation to a particularly weak insult he'd shot at the other once echoed in his head at that moment - <i>'sticks and stones can break my bones but your words can't hurt me.'<i></i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It brought a smile to his face, one which clearly Taeyong hasn't expected to see because his eyes widened ever so slightly. Jaemin would have loved to make a snarky comment out of spite, asking Taeyong to reconsider. Did Jaehyun really love Doyoung if he still shared a bed with Jaemin after races when they both had too much adrenaline pumping through their veins, when they were high off their victory or too consumed by a loss and in desperate need of a way to blow off some steam?</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>But of course, Jaemin knew that he had no right to make such outrageous claims when he'd seen first hand how Jaehyun acted around Doyoung. The words he wanted to say were more of an insult to Taeyong, to make him question his own friend and teammate, to hurt him in self-defence, because words did hurt.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He felt the roots and flowers that had remained dormant in his chest for two days stir again at the blunt reminder, but he fought down the sudden spike of pain he felt.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He chose the easy way out. He merely said, "I know."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Taeyong blinked once again, dumbfounded. Jaemin waited for a few seconds, watching Taeyong's lips found shapeless holes and mouthed words that didn't really make sense, until the other dragged his hand down his face in pure exasperation. "And you're still messing with Jaehyun, despite knowing he's in love with Doyoung?" He asked.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>If there was one thing Jaemin hated more than the taste of artificial strawberry flavouring, it was being judged. He wanted to shrink back into a shell, curl into a ball, bring any sort of barrier between him and the pink-haired man in front of him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. Maybe Taeyong picked up on his discomfort because he merely sighed and stepped forward, placing a hand on Jaemin's shoulder.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>There was a near imperceptible height difference between the two, but Taeyong straightening his back was enough for him to somewhat look down at Jaemin with a gaze he could only assume most of the older's team would be on the receiving end of if they ever did something stupid.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He wasn't even Taeyong's friend, so maybe he should have been angry, irritated even, at the other for meddling in his business, but he really couldn't bring himself to summon even a single drop of fury from the bottomless pit of emotions that seemed to exist in his chest sometimes.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Listen," Taeyong said slowly, all initial awkwardness was gone as he looked at Jaemin dead in the eye. "As I said before, we're not close, and there probably will never come a time we'd ever be close, although I would like that. You're a smart kid, Jaemin," The corner of Taeyong's mouth lifted in a half-smile. "You seem like a good person, even if you can be aggravating. And you deserve someone who will truly, genuinely love you.  Jaehyun," Taeyong paused, eyes sad. "Jaehyun isn't that person for you, and I'm sorry about that. I genuinely am."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He says it so sincerely, Jaemin can't even find himself to even be bitter about the whole. Jaemin knows, of course, he knows Jaehyun isn't the one for him. Jaehyun should be the last person he should place his heart in the hands of, especially not when the older's own resides in the hands of another. He'd drop it in an instant the minute Doyoung calls for him, and leave Jaemin for words carried by the wind, all alone to pick the bloodstained glass pieces by himself.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>He knows.<i></i></i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>But he still did it, and that's why, contrary to what Taeyong says, Jaemin considers himself to truly be the biggest idiot ever.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Taeyong seems to interpret Jaemin's silence as heartbreak, giving the younger a squeeze on the shoulder. "I'm not doing this for Jaehyun," He says lowly, and Jaemin arches his eyebrow. Taeyong backtracks, waving his free hand in the air. "Well, I am, technically," He corrects himself. "It's awful to see the two of them mutually pining for each other and just not getting together yet-" Taeyong clears his throat as another twinge of pain rushes through Jaemin's taste, and he tastes bitterness on his tongue. At this point, he can't tell if it's the purple flowers blooming in his chest or his own feelings.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"I just think it's really unfair you're dragged into this whole mess." Taeyong doesn't look him in the eye, gaze now firmly on Jaemin's shoes. "It hurts," Of course it does, Jaemin knows, "it is messy, and it can damage you beyond belief sometimes." Yes, it can - to the point of death. He knows it can. "It's bloody, and just, most of all," Taeyong looks up at Jaemin with raw pain in his eyes, it makes his heart lurch, "It's not love, Jaemin. There is no two-sided love, and that can end really badly for only one person."</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Jaemin stares at Taeyong, because of course, he knows this. Lips pulled downwards in a frown, he tilts his head to the side. "You've been there, haven't you?" He asks quietly. "Where I am now." "I have." Taeyong nods, and he cracks a smile, one so filled with sorrow, longing, and regret. "It isn't fun, I know it isn't, and I know you do, too."</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Jaemin <i>knows<i>, but he's still an idiot who charged headfirst and fell.</i></i></i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>Love.<i></i></i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Whatever Jung Jaehyun and Na Jaemin had was never love.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>The way Jaehyun smiled at him wasn't how he smiled at Doyoung with soft, large eyes and puckered lips. The universe that held infinite tenderness in his eyes as the brown orbs would rake over the smaller's form as Doyoung would make a snarky comment, leaving them clutching their stomachs in laughter. Jaehyun was in love with the black-haired man, and unfortunately, Jaemin was in love with him.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He knows what Jaehyun's kisses are like, with plush lips on his, the taste of raspberries, roses and vodka dancing on his tongue as a large hand would catch his waist, pressing him against the wall. It's always been a downward spiral from there, with his head being stuck on thoughts that weren't supposed to be his, heart fluttering from midnight kisses and sensual touches.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>And one night when he coughed up a single purple petal, he'd known. He'd been a fool to fall in love with someone he shouldn't have, someone meant to only be there to touch him when he was lonely, not someone to be the reason he no longer felt lonely.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"You deserve better, someone who won't break your heart again and again by simply not paying any attention to it. I'm so sorry you have to go through what you are right now, but it will be infinitely better for you if you pull yourself out of this mess." Taeyong's gaze softens, and he catches Jaemin's hands. Jaemin lets him hold them.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"You're a good person, Jaemin," Taeyong says, and Jaemin feels his sincerity through the haze of his thoughts. "Just try, before it's too late." He presses something into his palm, and then the pink-haired is gone, nothing but the faint scent of his clean lemon soap lingering in the air indicating that the other was in even with him at the back.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He doesn't know how long he's been standing there for until his eyes finally snap to the items in his hand, and his blood runs cold.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>There, in the centre of his calloused palm, lie two purple petals, and his pocket is empty.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jeno was endearing in his own subtle way. He always had a habit of wearing a pair of mismatched earrings in an attempt to ensure the pair of piercings he'd gotten wouldn't close over time, but apparently organizing his earrings was too much of a task.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin found it hilarious and absolutely adorable because you'd find Jeno intimidating, with his stone-cold glare and sculpted features, right until you noticed the bright red strawberry earring in one ear and a purple sparkling heart in the other, courtesy of Jisung. But then again, Jaemin supposes not many would keep wanting to stare at Jeno long enough to notice the smaller details about him. Jeno was an art piece, one with vivacious, vibrant colours splashed so brightly across a canvas it clouded your sight and it was all you could think of or see, and that made you miss out on the finer details.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>But Jaemin was never blind to Jeno, no matter how much the other would try to hide anything. So when the black-haired walked into their apartment with a purple bruise blooming on his cheekbone, shirt and pants streaked with dirt and crumpled to high heaven, Jaemin's jaw dropped open as he rushed forward.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"What the hell happened?" He narrowed his eyes, examining the bruise and the busted lip, before noticing Jeno's knuckles, raw and red, as he tightened his grip on the door handle. "At least let me close the door," Jeno mumbled, and Jaemin stepped back, arms folded across his chest.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>The door clicked shut, Jeno's back to him. A dull thump echoed in the infinite silence between the two of them, indicating the black-haired had just dropped his head against the wood. "Jeno?" Jaemin asked carefully, stepping forward.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"I don't even know, Jaem," Jeno sighed, turning around with his lips curving into a frown, fingers coming to brush the cut on his lower lip. "I was just at the park, and then Yuta and Taeil just showed up and told me to get out of there and I didn't and, and-" Jeno broke off, eyes downcast and fists trembling from the force with which he clenched them with.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Oh, Jeno," Jaemin sighed, opening his arms and setting aside the anger that blossomed inside his chest as soon as the other rushed into his arms, sending Jaemin stumbling back a couple of steps as he wrapped his arms around him. "I didn't even do anything," Jeno whispered. "I promise I didn't even try to pick up a fight, there is nothing special about that territory anyways, I don't know-"</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin gently shushed him, leading him inside the house. Jisung peeked over the edge of the couch, having slumped down while the movie which neither he nor Chenle was watching was playing at an obnoxiously loud volume. His eyes widened as he shot up, jaw hanging open, before he scrambled off the couch, proceeding to shove Chenle with his foot in order to get his attention.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"What happened?" Jisung asked. Jaemin seated Jeno at their table, rushing over to the fridge and returning with an ice-pack between his fingers that he gently pressed to the purple bruise blossoming on his cheekbone.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>The other let out a low hiss as the cold came in contact with his skin, bringing his hand up automatically to hold the pack. His fingers brushed against Jaemin's, and the other tensed, removing his hand as he felt a wave of nausea hit him, but he swallowed it, stepping back and leaning against the kitchen counter.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"I think they want the territory back," Jeno says quietly, and the words bring a sudden chill to the air in their apartment. Jaemin purses his lips, ignoring the racing of his heart and forcing himself to breathe through his nose. "To the extent that they were willing to beat you up for it?" Chenle asks quietly, and Jeno glares so heatedly at the table Jaemin is surprised holes haven't been bored into the surface by the sheer intensity of his gaze alone.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"They haven't shown any hostility before this," Jaemin says, shaking his head as he thinks back to the incident a few days back. "I met Taeyong at the supermarket, and he was friendly." Jaemin winces at his choice of words, recalling the rather unpleasant details of the conversation. "And we all know Mark and Donghyuck don't really hate each other right now." Jisung shrugs, drawing out a chair and seating himself on it.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jeno shakes his head. "It's almost as if Taeyong really has no control over them," Jaemin muses. "They're a bunch of twenty-year-old men crammed into one house," Jisung bites. "I wouldn't be surprised if they're not particularly polite." "Don't use them as an excuse or an example for you to start unruly behaviour, Jisung," Jaemin drawls, making Chenle snort and the tip of Jisung's ears go flaming red. "I do not behave unruly-ly!" He protested. "I don't even know if that's a word," Jeno says kindly.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Then I made it one," Jisung huffs, arms crossed over his chest. Jaemin shakes his head as a sigh leaves his lips, the slamming of the door effectively interrupting him before he can say anything. "We're back!" Donghyuck's voice echoes through the hallway, and although Jaemin has a quip about how their grand entrance might as well have broken down their front door, he refrains from letting the words slip off his tongue. He isn't the only one who's tensing - he sees Chenle sit up straighter, noting the fury on Donghyuck's face as he storms into the small, cramped kitchen, Renjun at his heels.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"We're getting dragged into turf wars right now," Renjun speaks before Donghyuck can say a single word, both their eyes trained on Jaemin, who raises an eyebrow in response. "How so?" He asks. "It's why the 127 losers want this area back under their name," Donghyuck scoffs, knuckles turning white as he clenches his fists tightly. Jaemin notices, reaching forward and gently prying the other's hands open.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Doyoung nearly rammed his car into Hyuck," Renjun says, and Jisung lets out a snort. "We've all been wanting to do that for a while, it's not a huge surprise," He says, and Donghyuck glares at him. "Save your smartass comments for later, Jisung," Donghyuck says warningly, and Jaemin squeezes his hands. "What did he want?" He asks, and Donghyuck wrenches his hands out of Jaemin's hold as he paces up and down the available space. "He asked for a race," Renjun answers. "Gangbuk as the racetrack- the entire district. Motorcycles versus cars, whoever wins gets to hold onto Mia-dong district."</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Silence fell over them, and Jaemin sighs, taking his lower lip between his teeth as he thinks. "Is it really worth it?" He asks tentatively. "When we started racing we didn't aim to get control of turfs, and we only raced Seungcheol because we didn't have a choice. We kind of do, now. Is it really worth it?"</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>They all know the idea of the choice only serves its purpose as an illusion to fool them.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Well," Jisung frowns. "They beat up Jeno. If anything, we go for this race and gain compensation for that." "They did what?" Donghyuck whirls around, eyes resting on a blinking Jeno as he holds the ice-pack to his cheek, and he looks at him as if he's seeing him for the first time since he stepped into the room. "They did that?" He asks slowly, and Jeno looks helplessly at Jaemin, who clenches his jaw and grits his teeth.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Fine," He says darkly. "If they want a match, then they'll get a match, and we'll win it."</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>The whole district was their racetrack. Start at the Han River, get to the other end of the district, use any route, don't get caught. Playing dirty was allowed, and playing dirty was what they were all going to do.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>This wasn't the first time 127 had tried to take a territory - being the older group, they'd had jurisdiction over most of the areas in Seoul until they came along. The Dreamers, doe-eyed and free-spirited had posed unintentional competition and threat to their authority. It was the reason the two groups spoke civilly to each other, why Jaemin led his team under the cover of night in a show of defiance and spray painted their wall, why Jaemin was surprised when Mark spoke kindly to them.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>For all their faults, he'd never have expected the older group to resort to violence to get their attention. On Jeno, nonetheless.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>They were desperate, Jaemin realised. Turf wars were stressful, he knew this. It's why he made a conscious effort to stay out of them as much as he could. They were unnecessary and violent bouts of the conflict he had no interest in partaking in, but it was inevitable when their own territory was threatened.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin knew the district they were arguing over was the same one Seungcheol's own little band of misfits had tried to race them for - if 127 won this, it would be a clear show of strength that would force Seungcheol to back down. Where he had lost, Taeyong won, and Jaemin was in the middle of this tug of war. He wanted to be compassionate, was willing to even sit down with Taeyong and work out a compromise, because for what it was worth, sharing a turf for that long with someone was bound to give you an advantage of being familiar with their presences, strengths and weaknesses.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>For Jaemin, spending time with Jaehyun sped that process up, even if it resulted in him getting his heartbroken. Still, he would insist, they shouldn't be racing, them of all people. They really should be working together. Even now, fifteen minutes after the whistle had been blown and the Dreamers had split up into pairs, racing down the streets, he had half a mind to call off the race altogether, and settle it all diplomatically, because while Jaemin loved racing, he did not like conflict.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>All of those thoughts of peace, white flags and white doves flew out of his mind when he tilted his head to glance at Jeno racing beside him. The two of them had their helmets fastened tightly, but even then, Jaemin would envision the dark purple bruises blooming across his cheek, the cut across his rose-red lip, the blue and black decorating the side of his ribs.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>And Jaemin feels white-hot fury, because here Jeno was, face and eyes hidden by the helmet and visor, racing beside him, like he always had been, from the first race he'd ever participated in, to his first win, meeting Renjun, getting the apartment - everything. Jeno had always been there for him, giving him everything his body could possibly offer and then some more.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Yet, when he had needed Jaemin while he was at the mercy of someone's fists just so that they could get the sick satisfaction of knowing they'd get a message across in the most impactful, provoking way possible, Jaemin hadn't been there for him.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin feels the bitter taste of the flowers on his tongue and ignores it in favour of the race he needed to win. Stress or adrenaline wouldn't be good for his heart, already weakening from the roots and leaves that twisted themselves into his lungs and grew in the crevices of his ribs, as the biology textbook he'd borrowed from the library said. He didn't find himself particularly caring too much - if he was going to die, he mused, he might as well go doing something he loved.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin bit his lip, peering into the mirror, only to see an empty street. The air was heavy with silence, a thick blanket of tension over the two of them as they continued down the street. Everything was happening smoothly - too smoothly. Donghyuck He turned, and Jeno looked at him as if sensing what he wanted.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"We can cover more ground!" Jaemin yelled, voice muffled by the helmet, and Jeno nodded before veering off to the left, heading down the alley. Two rights later, Jaemin knows he'll find a shortcut that would considerably lessen the amount of time and distance he would need to take to cross the finish line.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin, on the other hand, is left with the longer route to take. However, he knows its wider, considerably more spacious than the narrow lanes he and Jeno are using, meaning there was a big likelihood the car racers would use it to their advantage and speed down the roads.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Even if he can't be the win to cross the finish line and bring victory, he can hold off the others till one of the other five can.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin sharply turns to the right, revving up the engine as he bursts out the lane, twisting the front wheel slightly as he gets back on track, racing down the road for a good minute before he hears it - the faint rumble of a car, the soft hum of its engine. Twenty seconds later, he sees the sleek red car. The vehicle speeds up, and Jaemin knows he's been spotted.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Narrowing his eyes, he pulls the throttle and shoots forward, ducking into the alley to his right at the last second.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He catches a flash of silver hair and smiles grimly as he races through the alley, watching the left turn steadily come closer. Yuta is known for being one of 127 biggest players, and while Jaemin and his team have the advantage of speed and flexibility of movement, 127 have the advantage of numbers, as well as exceptional racers. If he takes the left turn, he can intercept Yuta and stop him. And if Yuta's here, that means Mark or Jungwoo would be close by, known for tailing the older in races to be designated back up.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He swerves to the left, leaning forward and tightening his grip on his motorcycle as he speeds up, ready to take the last sharp left that would force him right in the line of Yuta's vehicle-</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>And then he nearly crashes straight into a familiar black Porsche, swerving at the last second. He went hurtling straight into a large green dumpster that had been placed in front of the big red brick wall of a school to his right. . With the force of an explosion, he's thrown back, rolling down the road before he comes to a stop, wheezing as all the air has been knocked out from his lungs.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>A dark figure had stepped out of the car, jogging up to him and hovered over his fallen figure. Hands had removed his helmet and hoisted him up. Jaemin's fingers automatically squeezed the arm of the person as he struggled to inhale and exhale properly. Wincing, he squinted as his vision slowly stopped swimming in and out of focus, honey brown locks and matching eyes coming into focus.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He'd never wanted to punch a pretty face so badly before.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaehyun smiled at him, pale skin flushed from the cold as he offered a hand and helped Jaemin up. "Your bike is probably busted." He eyed the vehicle that lay on the sidewalk, a massive dent in the trash can. "I'll give you a ride to the finish line."</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin gives him a scathing look, forcing himself onto his feet without the help offered to him. "Don't get cocky," He tells Jaehyun quietly. "You've not won yet." Jaehyun doesn't seem to take him seriously, stepping closer, his index finger gently tilting Jaemin's chin up, eyes flitting over his features, and the younger could feel his face heat up. "We will soon," Hr grins. "Such a pity a face like this had to get hurt in the process."</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Leave me alone." Jaemin shoves Jaehyun off, catching the older's look of surprise, forcing down the wave of nausea that takes over him doubled with a tsunami of guilt. It's not Jaehyun's fault, his conscience whispers. If anything, it's his own, because he was stupid enough to mess around with him.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Stalking over to his bike, he snatched up the helmet that lay on the ground, reaching his vehicle. He hauled it up, before swinging a leg over it, balancing the bike between his legs as his fingers worked nimbly on the straps of his helmet, the procedure almost as innate as breathing itself as a consequence of years of practice. "Jaemin," Jaehyun calls out, sounding distinctly worried, but for now, Jaemin forces him to focus on his own problems for once.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"We're in the middle of a race, in case you forgot, Jung," He bites, before revving up his engine. "See you at the finish line."</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>And then he's gone, whizzing past the older and swerving around the car that stood in the centre of the road. He is angry and frustrated at his luck, at the audacity of the 127 members, at the world, at the universe, and at himself, but he isn't even sure why he is anymore. He's had too many things to be bitter about, and too little time to dwell on any of them before he was gone for good. So he does the only thing he knows how to do that is truly in his control: he flicks his wrist and twists the accelerator because he is going to win.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>And if the vision of the lone figure of Jung Jaehyun standing, clueless and confused in front of the car he's been in too many times for his liking pops up in his mind again and again, he bites his lower lip and forces himself to look back at the road.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>His first big disappointment of the day arrives in the form of learning the match had ended in a tie, when he reaches the finish line, a second before Taeyong's car comes thundering after him, only to see Donghyuck, Jisung, and Jeno waiting with their arms crossed over their chests and a stormy look on their faces.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Johnny Seo apparently crossed the line the same time as I did," Donghyuck spits when Jaemin questions him, and he understands the other's irritation. "It's a load of bull," Jisung snaps. "I swear to god, either that referee is blind or biased." "Sure we can't beat a confession out of him?" Jeno raises an eyebrow but is stopped when Jaemin reaches forward and digs his fingers warningly into the other's bicep. "Don't pick unnecessary fights," Jaemin says lowly, ignoring the look of protest Jeno gives him.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Soon enough, Renjun and Chenle cross the finish line, and Jaemin doesn't bother to look at who follows them over the finish line, eyes fixed warily on the silver-haired man who's stalking over to them, Johnny tailing him with his hands in his pockets.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He expects the demand for a second match to emerge any second, and as usual, Nakamoto Yuta didn't fail to disappoint. The lean man jutted his chin out, staring down at Jaemin, giving him a cat-like grin, and Jaemin snarls back.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He was tired - breathing hurt even more now that he'd probably bruised his side halfway to hell. He was aggravated beyond belief, and he could tell Taeyong was just as tired, but the older male says nothing, and Jaemin knew it was because he was just as hungry for the expansion of territory as the others. For all his kindness, empathy, and compassion, Jaemin knew that Lee Taeyong could be reduced to nothing more than a greedy man who lived off adrenaline and had power at his fingertips. A true monster, unwilling to yield to a force other than himself.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>In a way, he was almost like Jaemin himself. As much as the Dreamers adored insulting the elders on their insufferable egos, Jaemin knew they themselves were just as bad, and they hated losing.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Next week, Sunday," Jaemin snaps with as much authority he could possibly muster in his state. "We will have no more after that, regardless of the result." Yuta opens his mouth to say something, but Johnny beats him to it. "Fair enough," The older man acquiesces quickly, and drags Yuta out of there, for which Jaemin is grateful.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Slowly, the crowd that had gathered to watch them disperses slowly, including some of the 127 members as well. Jaemin nudges Donghyuck along and is in the middle of trying to convince Chenle why staying up on the track till four am will not be a good idea until he's interrupted by Jaehyun.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Can we talk?" The older asks softly.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin feels eyes on him - he knows Taeyong will be staring at him disapprovingly, some of the Dream members, especially Jeno, would be glaring holes into Jaehyun's head, but it doesn't stop him from sighing.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Go home," He pushes Chenle and the younger leaves with no further delay. Jaemin watches him catch up with the others, briefly locking eyes with Jeno, before turning back to Jaehyun and nodding.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>When he coughs into his fist once the older turns around and leads him to his car, seeing the bloody petals only strengthen his resolve, and he knows, ignoring the curious glance he gets from Doyoung, the worried one from Taeyong, and the icy one from Yuta. He knows he'd have to end whatever he had with Jaehyun then and there because otherwise, it'd get lost and trapped in the confines of his cowardice and memories until there was no Na Jaemin left in the world anymore.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>And while he may be too late to save himself, he hopes he can convince everyone to not blame themselves for his demise.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaehyun takes him to his home.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin knows it's not for anything even remotely sexual - the older looks more worried than anything, but he says nothing on the drive there, and Jaemin makes no effort to break the silence. He feels a sickening amount of dread build up in his chest, like he's just falling back into the never-ending pattern of being in that car, then being in his bed, and then going home.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>This time he didn't even bring his motorcycle.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>If anything, Jaemin knows Jaehyun senses something wrong, and he brings him home in order to comfort himself, allowing himself to draw courage from the familiarity of his surroundings in order to just ask Jaemin.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He indulges in the older - maybe it's because he pities him, or maybe it's because, deep down, in the pit of his stomach, guilt stirs as the complete weight of his decision sinks in - tonight is probably the last night he'll ever spend with Jung Jaehyun.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He knows it is for the best, but somehow, that doesn't make anything feel less painful. Jaemin kicks off his shoes at the door, removes his jacket and hangs it up on the pegs lined on the wall, and steps down the hall into the living room. The familiar pricks of pain rise in his chest as his heart recognizes the familiarity of his own routine, and his muscles tense involuntarily. In a way, he supposes, this time won't be different from any other time, because he'll still be leaving with a broken heart.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>And how can he not, when Jaehyun turns to him and gives him that devastating smile, all starry-eyed and rosy, dimpled cheeked. "Do you want to have a bath?" He asks softly, and Jaemin pauses, teeth knawing at the already scarred and torn muscle of his lower lip, hesitant.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaehyun notices the blood that starts to bead out of the cuts Jaemin reopens, and he steps forward, taking Jaemin's chin between his forefinger and thumb, and gently pulls his lip out of his teeth's grasp.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin lets him. He lets the older cup his cheek, he lets him bend down and press his forehead against his own, he lets himself revel in the touch and the rush of euphoria, love, and the feeling of importance it gave him.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He thinks its funny - he was so lonely at some point in his life that he turned to a man he had barely known to gain love and support, when he had it always by his side, just not the ability to see it.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He lets himself feel warm when Jaehyun's skin touches his own, leaning into the older's caress. Maybe Jaehyun senses the finality in his actions, maybe he doesn't, because, in the end, he says nothing more when Jaemin finally nods and merely leads him to the bathroom.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>It's possibly the most intimate thing they've ever done, and Jaemin is reminded of every single reason he ever fell in love with Jung Jaehyun - it's his smile, his voice, his touch. It's the way he cares for people, being there for them when they need him to be. It's the way he cared for Jaemin when he needed him to. Somewhere along the lines of simply touching him because he was so starved of love at his lowest point and the stress of being dragged into fights that Jaemin desperately did not want to be a part of, all the tension and the rivalry and hatred that bubbled between the two opposing teams Jaemin and Jaehyun were on, they blurred boundaries that had been set up for reasons, but only one would walk out of the ordeal alive.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Maybe Jaemin is happy he's the one who contracted the disease instead of Jaehyun. He doesn't think he could live with the guilt of death on his conscience. Funnily enough, the pain from the aconite in his lungs hurts the most around Jaehyun, the racer known for pulling through at the last minute in everything - in a race, saving Yuta, winning, loving - he's innocuous, with sempiternal stars in his eyes. The pain in his chest is still the easiest to bear around him, especially today, because Jaemin lets himself bask in the purity and warmth of his love for the first time in months without worrying about the looming axe of death hanging over his neck, for it's the last time he ever will.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He wonders if this is what it's like to truly love someone and not worry about getting your heart broken. As the sound of water hitting the tub fills in the bathroom, he wonders if he'll ever have the chance to love someone like that. When black locks and black eyes, red-lipped smiles and crescent eyed-grins come into mind, he merely presses his lips into a thin line that curves into a fond smile and shakes his head, slipping into the water.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He was enveloped by warmth when Jaehyun seats himself down behind him in the bathtub, water warm against his skin. He feels calloused fingers trace the noticeable ridges of his spine, warm breath ghost over the shell of his ear as Jaehyun's low voice whispers, "You've lost weight."</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin nods, keeping his eyes fixed on the image of his hands that were underwater, ripples on the surface. The image ripples, making them look weird, unlike the sculpted perfection that runs his fingers across the expanse of Jaemin's back, making him shiver and feel warm simultaneously.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He was just someone who fell in love with a cherub of Cupid himself, somewhere in the midst of adrenaline-filled races and the rush knowing that they could never be seen together, tender touches and breathy gasps in the late-night while Artemis averted her eyes to cover up their sins.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>In the end, he was the one with vines piercing his lungs, he was the one who woke up slick with sweat in the middle of the night when he was sure if he shut his eyes, he'd never open them again.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaehyun massages the floral-scented shampoo he always smelt of, and for a second, a thrill runs through Jaemin, that for once, he'd be able to carry around a small piece of the man who owned his heart, before it dispersed, leaving him conscious and bare.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>He was a lovestruck fool, but he knows he can't afford to live in a delusion anymore. Getting over someone you loved takes time, he'd heard, but the grains in the hourglass were against the blooming beauties in his lungs. He feels nauseated, his stomach churning, but he forced it down, allowing himself a small cough as he covered his hand, clenching it into a fist to hide the fluttering petal, swallowing back the bitter taste.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"We should stop this." He said, voice hoarse and throat sore. Jaehyun's hands paused briefly, before resuming their task of washing Jaemin's hair.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>The older let out a soft hum in acknowledgement. "Why do you think we should?" He asked gently. Jaemin could detect no heartbreak, no disappointment, no hurt, nothing other than genuine curiosity and soft willing treads into uncharted territory, to learn about the thoughts that run in his head. That's his second disappointment for the day, but unlike the first one, this is invalid, but he knows it, and so he allows the emotion to linger for a few seconds before he inhales and attempts to extinguish it.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"It's not going to turn out good for either of us - especially me." He says, raising his eyes to the glistening shower knobs in the soft golden lighting of the bathroom. "You're in love with someone, I'm in love with someone, but really, only one of us has a chance to be happy, and this," He waves his hand vaguely, "This escapade is just a distraction from actually finding someone you love."</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaehyun says nothing, reaching over Jaemin's shoulder to turn on the shower faucet, bringing it towards them. Jaemin shut his hair as the coloured water streamed down, staining the pure bathtub with hues of pink and blue.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"You're right," Jaehyun says softly, so softly Jaemin nearly misses what he says, and when he registers it, he flinches. Jaehyun doesn't seem to notice, possibly brushing it off as the water startling Jaemin for a second. Jaemin wishes he wasn't right - the realisation that Jaehyun truly did not love him was something he knew and was trying to accept, but it was never going to be any less painful, at least for a while. "Do you know what it's like, being in love, Jaemin?"</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin hums. "I do," He says. "But he doesn't love me back."</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>The sound of rushing water was all that was heard, echoing over the marble surfaces. "He is missing out, then," The older replies. Jaemin shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. "He'll be happier with someone else," Jaemin whispers.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaehyun was silent as he leaned over to switch off the faucet, and for a while, the two just sat there, the silence weighing on them like a thick, heavy coat of lead.</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>"Will you be okay?" Jaehyun asks after a few minutes pass. Jaemin jumps before he turned around to look at the older, cupping his face and gives him a smile. "I'll be okay." He says, and he wonders how a lie so big and blatant can slip from his lips without having any consequences - no glass shattering, thunder or lightning in the sky, no earthquake that causes buildings to fall. "But will you be?"</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaehyun's lips curved up in a gentle smile, eyes dancing with a strange glimmer as he shook his head. "I'll miss you." He confessed. Jaemin's smile slid off his face as he looked into the now serious expression of the other. Jaehyun took Jaemin's hand and pressed a dainty kiss to the inside of his wrist. "I like your company. But," He gave the other a weary smile. "You're right. And if you think we should end it here, I suppose we should."</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Jaemin is quiet, and he remains quiet, until Jaehyun looks at him long and hard, before whispering, "Can I kiss you? One last time?"</i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i><i><i><i>Jaemin looks up at the face he has grown to adore, letting his eyes roam over the sight in front of him, wet hair falling in his eyes, defined collarbones, a sharp jaw and bitten lips. </i>Jung Jaehyun</i>, he wanted to say, </i>I love you, and I really wish I didn't.</i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He nods.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Jaehyun surges forward, cupping Jaemin's face, lips interlocking with his, and he lets out a soft sigh. "You taste slightly bitter today," Jaehyun mumbles into his mouth, and Jaemin lets out a soft laugh, fingers coming up to press his sternum briefly as he is reminded again of the unspeakable reality that grows in his chest and saps at his life, the bane of wolves that were used to hunt them. Aconite, a bitter, poisonous flower, that is slowly killing him from the inside out.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Jaemin smiles, tilting his head to the side as he shrugs, "I'm a bitter soul, after all. What did you expect?"</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Maybe the routine is broken, because an hour later, for the first time, Jaehyun watches Jaemin leave. He sits patiently as the younger fumbles through his bag for his phone, and in the process, the petal he had held onto slips out of his palm.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>He tenses, but pretends not to notice until Jaehyun's eyes flicker up to him curiously. "You have flowers for someone?" He asks, eyeing the bag as Jaemin pulls out his phone, giving the older as charming a smile as possible. "No, for myself," He answers, before pressing Jeno's number.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"Jeno," He says into the phone, the sleepy voice on the other end answering with mild irritation, which Jaemin doesn't hold against him, being woken up at the ungodly hour it was. He kept silent, hearing the sounds of shuffling, until Jeno asked, "Where are you?"</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>His heart cracks a little, hearing Jeno sounding so resigned, weary, but so full of adoration for someone so, so undeserving. He blinks back the tears, whispering out the address to the other boy. He receives a promise of being there soon in return, and the call ends.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"Goodbye, Jaemin," Jaehyun says softly as Jaemin slips on his shoes. Jaemin looks up, eyes moving over his face, before smiling sadly. "Goodbye, Jaehyun," He says, and then he's off down the corridor, accompanied by only the echoes of his own footsteps as he makes his way down the stairs</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>When he seats himself on the back of Jeno's motorcycle, he wraps his arms around the other and buries his face in his back.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Everything seems to be coming to an end, and Jaemin is terrified.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"Jung Jaehyun, huh?" Jeno said softly as he watched Jaemin re-enter the room, drying his hair. "Yeah," Jaemin said absent-mindedly, eyes drifting to the window that overlooked the street. It was empty, devoid of any life, not even the slinking of a cat back into the shadows. The air was cold, and so was everything about Jeno tonight. Jaemin forced himself to look the other boy in the eye. Jeno stared back, face as blank as ever, and he felt like he was staring at a stranger.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"You've been seeing him for how long?" Jeno asked quietly. There was no anger, no mockery, no curiosity, just a low tone that made your blood freeze and tongue go numb. "A while," Jaemin replied. "I broke it off today."</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Jeno must have sensed the evasiveness of his answer because he dropped his gaze from Jaemin to the carpet, and he instantly felt relieved, like he wasn't being pinned to the wall by a piercing stare. A sick feeling settled in his stomach, because since when had he been afraid of Jeno looking at him?</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Ever since he started dying, he thought. He was scared of being dissected by orbs that had watched him grow up, hands that would hold him close and instantly feel the increasing cold of his skin, ears that could detect his lies as if they shared the same mind. Jaemin had never been one to hold secrets close to his chest, especially when it came to the boys. He can't remember when he started closing off bits and pieces of himself, bit by bit. He struggled to reign in all his secrets using barbed wire to tie and lock them in place within his ribs, fingers all bloody and raw from being ripped and pierced with the force he pulled everything back. Jaemin was helpless and determined not to be so.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Still, seeing Jeno hunched over, elbows resting on his thighs, made his already weakening heart sting. Jaemin walked forward, crouching in front of Jeno and looked up at the black-haired. "I'm sorry," He said softly. Jeno's gaze travelled upwards slowly, from the carpet to his sock-clad feet, up to his legs and torso to his face. "You didn't tell me," He murmured. "I didn't," Jaemin agreed. "I'm sorry I didn't."</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Jeno paused, seemingly taking in Jaemin's features, eyes flickering all over his face, before shutting them and leaning forward, resting his forehead against Jaemin's. "Do you love him?" He breathed out, and Jaemin didn't answer, merely shutting his own, and then pulling Jeno into an embrace. He wondered if the other could feel his trembling through the copious amount of fabric between them. Jaemin always adored wearing clothes too large on him for comfort, though their purpose seemed to have changed over the course of the months.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"It really doesn't matter if I do or not," He whispered. A lump formed in his throat, making it hard for him to swallow. "He's in love with someone else."</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>And from the way Jeno tensed in his arms, it seemed like the final piece fell in place and everything clicked. In a way, it was almost relieving - seeing Jeno yank himself out of Jaemin's grasp, the expression of terror slowly shattering the poker face he'd kept on much like ink seeped across a single, white sheet paper. He felt relief flood his system when hands cupped his jaw when he felt Jeno's heartbeat speed up and breathing quicken, and he saw something break in his eyes.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Jeno loved Jaemin, the devil loved a sinner, and he drew comfort from that.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Instead of the bombardment of questions he expected, Jeno merely let out a ragged breath, before asking, "Which flower?"</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>The question brought a sardonic smirk to Jaemin's face as he stared up at the other, and he leaned his cheek into Jeno's touch. "Something rather ironic for the designated Wolf in Sheep's Clothing," He whispered. "Aconite, or wolfsbane." He let out a laugh, which ended as a choked off sob as he rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Jeno's midriff and burying his face into his chest. Somewhere inside, he found it within himself to laugh at the irony of his situation.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>"I'm going to die, Lee Jeno." He tightened his hold around Jeno's torso, like the boy was his only tether to the mortal world anymore. Jeno probably was. "I'm going to die, and I'm so fucking sorry."</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>When fingers came up to card through his hair and the lightest of kisses was placed on the crown of his head, he glanced up. Tears blurred the edges of his vision, but he could make out Jeno's bright eyes and jaw set firmly.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i><i><i>"You will not die on me, Na Jaemin," The other breathed out as he looked down at Jaemin, pressing his forehead against his. "You're not going to die on me and break our promise of eternity over some stupid </i>boy</i>."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jaemin laughed, and this time, he felt a lot lighter.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Tell them," Jaemin tunes out Jeno's insisting as he focuses on the steam rising in delicate spirals off the surface of his coffee. It's been three days, now a cold Saturday morning. They were sitting at their small circular table that was a tight fit for the six of them, dinner often being filled with squabbling about who's elbow was knocking against whom, knees banging and disgruntled groans, but Jaemin knows deep down he wouldn't have it any other way, even if the urge to sink his fork into Renjun increases with each dig of his bony elbow into his ribs.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It is small memories like this that really bring a small smile to his face. Jaemin has always been a family-oriented man, despite having no family prior to this. He has always sought love, praise, and affection, and has always wanted to give the same to others. But Jaemin would never want to burden his boys - after all, it's the reason he was left at that orphanage, it's the reason he met Jeno, it's the reason he got into racing, it's the reason he is where is now: he was a burden on someone, and hence, they gave him up.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He didn't want to lose them. So he looks at Jeno in the eye and gives him the same answer Jeno had been receiving for days on end now. It's a soft, simple, "No."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He sees Jeno tense, shifting in his seat, before the other squares his jaw and leans forward. "I've read a little on hanahaki, Jaemin," Jeno says through gritted teeth. "You need to get surgery." "Or," Jaemin leans back. "I could just leave it and get over Jaehyun." He sees something flash in Jeno's eyes at the mention of the name, a monster rearing its head before it is forced back down, and Jaemin brushes it off. "I don't think that's how it works," Jeno says quietly, and Jaemin scoffs.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Last I checked, Jeno," Jaemin rolls his eyes. "I'm the one who has the disease, not you." "And I wish it was me, because at least I wouldn't be stupid enough to deny help!" Jeno's voice rises, his chair is pushed back as he stands, and Jaemin immediately clamps his hand over his mouth, eyes darting to the other rooms to make sure the others haven't been woken up.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Slowly, he sees the fire in Jeno's eyes die down and the other slumps down defeated. Jaemin removes his hand slowly, sitting back down himself. "Jeno-" "Jaemin, you said you were going to die," He cuts him off breathlessly. "You said you were sorry. You know it's bad, so why can't you just go?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jaemin is quiet, taking a sip of his coffee and wincing when the scalding liquid burns his tongue. He sets the cup down and lets out a long sigh. "Have you heard what happens to people who get the surgery?" He asks. Jeno doesn't answer, so Jaemin ploughs right on. "They can't love anymore. They feel empty, sad, unhappy because one of the greatest treasures of life is taken away from them." He leans back, tipping his head back and eyes the ceiling.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jeno remains silent for so long Jaemin wonders if he's even heard him, until Jeno mumbles, "There won't be any life to have a treasure ripped from if you don't." Jaemin sits up and bursts out laughing, smiling at Jeno who looks utterly bewildered. "True," Jaemin agrees, fingers running through his blue locks gently. "But trust me," He says, as the door to Donghyuck's room creaks open and him and Chenle come lumbering out. "I'll be fine."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i><i>He stands him, and that's when it hits him. </i>He wasn't going to be fine.</i>
</p><p>Vaguely, he hears the coffee cup crashing to the floor, can feel the hot coffee touch the edge of his socks, and can make out Donghyuck's yell of surprise, but all that is truly registering in his mind was how every cell in his body seems to be lit on fire. His hands come to cover his mouth, and he feels the wave of nausea incoming, forcing him to double over.</p><p>He can't even try to hide it as petals spill from his mouth in a violet and vermillion waterfall, blood and leaves and purple dotting the floor as he tries to breathe. The roots in his lungs twist, they pierce and they rip. Jaemin topples to the side, straight into strong arms, and he knows Jeno caught him. He wants to smile, because in a way, he could always count on Jeno to catch him when he falls.</p><p>It's Chenle who rushes to his aid, rubbing his back soothingly as Jeno keeps Jaemin upright, hunched over as petals continue to spill, and Jaemin feels tears roll down his cheeks onto his tongue, metal and salt dancing on his taste buds. "Call an ambulance," Chenle instructs. Donghyuck is frozen, lips parted in surprise when Jaemin tries to look up at him and tell him no, because they couldn't afford hospital bills, none of them could afford to take so much time out of their day to tend to them, that he was sorry for putting them in this situation. Donghyuck's eyes widen in horror when he meets Jaemin's own, gaze drifting to the mess of red and purple on the floor. "Those..." He swallows. "Those are-"</p><p>"I know what those are!" Chenle snaps. "Now call the fucking ambulance!" Maybe it's the swearing that gets Donghyuck to snap out of his shock, the direness of the situation getting to him when Chenle swears because Chenle never swears.</p><p>The commotion is enough to have Renjun and Jisung stumble out of their room in a panic, and Jaemin can hear Renjun let out a "What-" before he tunes it out. He coughs again, and Chenle is there to wipe away the blood with the edge of his sweater, even when Jaemin tries to reprimand him. "Jaemin..." Chenle looks at him, and he can't stand to look into the other's eyes, see the hatred or heartbreak or disappointment that would bubble in chocolate brown irises that only ever looked at him with affection.</p><p>He is saved from doing so when he throws up petals again, hand covering his mouth until Jeno pries his fingers away and pulls Jaemin close. He lets himself fall into Jeno, breath hitching in horror when he sees that there's blood, his blood sticking to Jeno's shirt and he tries to pull away, but Jeno is far too strong for him.</p><p>Jaemin succumbs, and he cries. He cries as the bitter taste of aconite overwhelms his senses, the scent of rust and metal clouding his nose, and he wonders if the mess he's made will be the only reminder of his existence on the floor of the apartment where he'd shared so many memories with these boys.</p><p>"Jaemin," He hears Renjun say, but he turns his face into Jeno's chest, trembling. No more words fill the air, but he feels hands gently rub his back, he feels more than one pair of arms encircling him and Jeno, and he feels safe.</p><p>"I'm sorry," He rasps out, fingers tightly clutching Jeno's shirt as he pulls himself in impossibly closer. "I'm so, so sorry." "You've got nothing to be sorry for," Jeno says firmly, and his words are a rumble in his chest that Jaemin can feel in his bones from how their bodies are moulded together. "Please don't leave me," He whimpers, sucking in a deep breath when another wave of pain washes over him like a sheet of lava.</p><p>He hears them sigh, and then the hug is made tighter, and he can feel Renjun's breath ghosting the shell of his ear as he whispers, "No one is going anywhere, Jaem. We're always here for you."</p><p>Jaemin feels a tug at the back of his mind, black seeping in through the edges of his vision when he opens his eyes to stare at the way his fingers tremble as he clings onto Jeno's shirt, much like how he's clinging onto life by a few thin strands of yarn, the seconds ticking by as he waits for the sharp blades of the Fate's scissors to snip them off and let him fall into oblivion.</p><p>He knows the flowers in his chest will be the reason his heart will never beat for another, one way or the other, be it death or surgery.</p><p>Jaemin just didn't want to be left alone, and here, in the arms of boys he cherished more than himself, he allows himself to go lax and sink into slumber almost as if he is sinking into water, and somewhere in his chest, there's both terror, and strangely, relief.</p><p> </p><p>Jeno didn't learn how to love until he met Jaemin at the orphanage at the young age of nine. Seeing a boy with brown hair and a smile sweeter than any candy he'd ever tasted, he had felt the sudden urge to protect him.</p><p>That's all Jeno knew he was good at - protecting himself, others, and anything else. Jaemin taught him how to care, how to love, how to be selfless. Jaemin was the most selfless person he's ever known. He wanted to give and give and give and never wanted to take. Seeing that, Jeno wanted to be someone who Jaemin could both give and take from, and he knew he was.</p><p>He never imagined this was how he'd possibly lose Jaemin. To the hands of a shattered heart, to blood and flowers filling his lungs, to poison in his veins, to everything Jeno couldn't even try and protect him from because it was all internal. Jeno hated feeling helpless.</p><p>Even after the nurses declare Jaemin stable and load him into the ambulance, Renjun and Donghyuck looked too scared to do anything, so Chenle suggests they go to 127 and call off the race tomorrow, cool down a little, before joining Jeno and Jisung at the hospital. Jeno tenses at the mention of the race, before nodding stiffly and getting into the vehicle, Jisung crawling in beside him.</p><p>They jostle down the road in silence until Jisung breaks it with the question of, "How long has he had it?" He asks quietly. Jeno shakes his head. "I don't know," he whispers. "I found out three days ago. He refused to let me tell you guys. I was going to today, without him knowing, but-" He broke off, burying his face in his hands. Jisung slings an arm around Jeno, muttering, "Why didn't he tell us anything?"</p><p>"I saw the signs, Jisung," Jeno says miserably. "He came home late, went out early, he'd been coughing more and he'd always slide something into his pocket after doing that, he's been eating less, he's-" "Blaming yourself won't do anything," Jisung reprimands gently, tugging Jeno in closer.</p><p>It was rare he ever got to see Jisung act like the older one, and Jeno was content with letting Jisung retain his childhood innocence for as long as possible. Sometimes, that made him forget the younger was just as sensitive and perceptive as any of them. He really thinks Jaemin made wonderful decisions by taking in the other four, he's grateful Jaemin took him in, he's grateful for Jaemin, and he's terrified because he doesn't want to lose him.</p><p>"He didn't tell us because he knows we'll worry," Jeno breaks, feeling the waves of shock, panic, fear and terror wash over him one after the other. The scent of Jaemin's blood, the sight of the petals and the crimson, it's all stuck in his head like a gruesome recording he can't stop playing over and over again. "Jaemin cares too much about others and too little about himself, sometimes," Jisung says fondly, and Jeno can only nod in response.</p><p>He knows better than anyone else that Jaemin would be willing to rip out his soul and sell it to the devil if it ensured their happiness, and he knows, a long time back, Jeno would have been one to make such a deal. Over time, he's come to love Jaemin, with all his antics, excessive nagging and sugar consumption, the way he sometimes hugs too tight in the middle of the night or the way his hair sticks up in tufts after a race. He loves Jaemin when he dyes his hair out of spite to prove to Donghyuck he can make a colour look good on him, he loves Jaemin when he snaps and gets irritated, he loves Jaemin for everything he is and consoles him for everything he isn't.</p><p>Lee Jeno loves Na Jaemin, but he's scared he won't be able to protect him this time.</p><p> </p><p>"Call off the race," Renjun demands the minute Jaehyun swung the door open, startling the older. "What?" He blinks, before Donghyuck pushes past Renjun, peering over Jaehyun's shoulder. "Where's Taeyong?" He asks, narrowing his eyes when Chenle reaches forward and pulls him back.</p><p>"Here," The said leader comes forth, gently nudging him out of the way. Jaehyun purses his lips but moves, standing beside the pink-haired as he crosses his arms. He ran his eyes over the trio that stood at their door. They looked winded, exhausted even, Jaehyun notes, with the way their chests were heaving. Or that could have simply been from anger or hate, seeing as two of the most explosive members of the younger group and the cause of several bruises that littered Mark and Doyoung's skin stood at the threshold of their house.</p><p>If it was for anything even mildly diplomatic, he'd have expected Jaemin to show up, Jeno following him silently in his wake. Briefly, Jaehyun wonders how the younger is.</p><p>Taeyong's voice shook him out of his thoughts, watching as the older asked not unkindly, "Is there something you need?"</p><p>"Yes," Chenle cuts in before Renjun or Donghyuck could reply. He gives Taeyong as light a smile as he possibly can eyes flickering to Jaehyun, before looking back to Taeyong. "We need to call off the race."</p><p>Jaehyun frowns, tilting his head slightly as he stares at them. Taeyong seemed equally confused, leaning back to lock eyes with Jaehyun. "Why?" He askes, and Chenle's tongue darts out to wet his lips nervously before he speaks. "We won't be able to make it, we have something important to take care of," He says, as if it holds all the explanation they needed.</p><p>Taeyong looks unsure, and Jaehyun can practically see the gears turning in his head at the vague answers. The whole situation did seem awfully suspicious, with three kids turning up much too early in the morning to back out of a competition they could potentially lose. Jaehyun stepped forward, arching an eyebrow. "Are you doing this because you're scared you won't win?" He scoffs, ploughing on before any of them could retaliate. "This is a big affair, you guys understand that. I'm sure none of us wants this stupid rivalry over territory to continue on for longer than necessary, not my leader," He gives Taeyong a side-ways glance, before looking back them. "Nor yours," He completes, locking eyes with Donghyuck.</p><p>His words seem to snap something in the other, and before he realised what was happening, Donghyuck has lunged forward and wrapped his fingers around his collar with an infuriated yell.</p><p>"Donghyuck!" He heard Chenle yell, Taeyong letting out a gasp as he tried to pry the younger off Jaehyun, who tightly clutched his wrists, eyes widening when he noticed the tears at the corner of the younger's eyes.</p><p>"Then take the stupid territory," Donghyuck snarls, and finally, Renjun managed to yank the younger off, arms tightening around his midriff as he dug his heels into the ground, holding the other back. Jaehyun swallows, eyes still wide as his heart thumped wildly in his ribcage, frozen.</p><p>"Take that fucking territory," Donghyuck screams, and Jaehyun stares at the tears that stream down his face. "Take that territory like your stupid egos are taking everything good from us! We're bloody kids!" He lets out a choked sob as Chenle tried to hush him, fingers clutching the other's shirt placatingly. Donghyuck ignores the attempts at soothing him, wild eyes solely trained on Jaehyun. "Take that territory," He breathes out, slowly letting up in his struggle to escape from Renjun's hold. "We're not the cowards who are scared of losing a meaningless race, we're scared we're going to lose our fucking friend because of your actions-" He's cut off by his own sob as he fell to his knees, Renjun stooping down, still holding onto the boy.</p><p>"Someone is literally going to die," Donghyuck cries, "All because-" "Hyuck," Chenle says softly yet firmly. "Go back to the hospital." He looks up at Renjun, who nodded firmly. The boy hauls Donghyuck up, sparing him and Taeyong one last scathing look, before leading the crying boy away. Chenle stands with his back to them, watching as the duo made their way back down the road, before turning to Taeyong and Jaehyun.</p><p>His mouth is set in a firm line, eyes hard, and when Jaehyun peers close enough, he can see the splotches of red that decorated the edges of his white sweater. "Right," He breathes out. "Hyuck said what we were supposed to, just not as nicely as we planned." His eyes flicker momentarily in the direction the distressed boy had walked away in, evidently worried.</p><p>Taeyong steps forward slowly, as if approaching a cornered wild animal - with the way Chenle's head snaps towards him and his shoulders tense, he might as well have been. "Who's dying, Chenle?" Taeyong asks warily, watching as Chenle grits his teeth.</p><p>"No one is going to die," He says, but it sounded pathetically weak, as if he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. "He'll be fine." "Who?" Taeyong prods ever so gently.</p><p>Chenle glanced at him, before shifting his piercing gaze from the pink-haired to Jaehyun. He feels like he is being pinned to the wall, ripped apart and dissected under the borderline accusatory gaze. "Jaemin," Chenle said, and the dual-syllabic word sent chills shooting straight up his spine. "He's at the hospital?" Jaehyun pushes forward, freezing when Chenle looked at him. The younger's eyes are full of blazing flames that simmer and dance under brown irises, like it is his fault Jaemin was there, like-</p><p>"He'll be fine," Chenle says through gritted teeth, before turning to Taeyong, who is pale. "Racing wasn't meant to be competition with other groups," He said softly. "At least, not to this extent. It might be naive, but Jaemin started doing it for the fun of it- we started doing it for the heck of it." His eyes shift to his clenched fists.</p><p>Jaehyun raises his eyes to the sky, watching as grey clouds floated in the expanse that had been the lightest shade of baby blue an hour prior. It is dark for as far as the eye could see, and then the first drop. It is like time slowed down as his eyes catch sight of the descent of the droplet, watching as it fell, right in front of Chenle.</p><p>It breaks, a single, wet spot on the cement, soon followed by one, two, three, a hundred, a thousand more.</p><p>Chenle unclenches his fist, and something flutters down.</p><p>Jaehyun looks up, straight at him. Chenle clenches his jaw, before giving him a smile. It isn't forced, Jaehyun could tell that much, but it holds so much raw pain he feels like someone was digging the hilt of a knife into his chest. His next words were equally just as blunt and bruising. "There's no one to blame for him falling sick," Chenle says softly. "We should have noticed, maybe you should have too. But there's no one at fault."</p><p>Jaehyun swallows, lips parting ever so slightly. He wants to say something, anything, but he doesn't know what. There are a million more words behind those simple sentences, but he couldn't reach between the spaces, peer through the thin veil and see what Chenle is telling him.</p><p>"I'm going now," Chenle says, hand coming up to pet the damp strands of hair on his head as the rain begins to worsen."Have a good day, Taeyong, Jaehyun. Say hi to the others for me," He said, before turning around, walking down the road. Taeyong stands still, eyes fixed on the spot where Chenle had stood.</p><p>The said boy turns back for a second, much, much farther down the road. Jaehyun watches him mouth something, before turning away, figure becoming nothing but a lone spot on the horizon within a matter of minutes.</p><p>Taeyong still stands there.</p><p>Jaehyun walks forward hesitantly, before wrapping his fingers around the older's arm. "Let's go inside, you're going to get sick," He whispers. Taeyong doesn't budge, making Jaehyun acutely aware the man was trembling slightly.</p><p>He follows the older's line of vision. His blood runs cold.</p><p>On the ground where Chenle stood lie three bright purple petals.</p><p>It was the final piece of the puzzle, everything clicking into place as Jaehyun saw the bigger picture before his heart shattered, everything dissolving into multicoloured fractals as his breathing hitched and his fingers loosened their hold around Taeyong's arm, hand falling limply to his side.</p><p>"You taste slightly bitter today.."</p><p>"I'm a bitter soul, after all. What did you expect?"</p><p> </p><p>"You have flowers for someone?"</p><p>"No, for myself."</p><p> </p><p>"We should end this. It's not going to turn out good for either of us - especially me." </p><p> </p><p>'I forgive you,' Chenle had mouthed.</p><p>Jaehyun didn't think he could forgive himself for this.</p><p>Jung Jaehyun was truly a blind fool, and Na Jaemin was reaping the consequences for his mistakes.</p><p> </p><p>"Aconite is supposed to take years to grow," Jaemin tells Jeno as he sits on the bed, staring at the sheets he held in his clenched fists, crinkling them to no end. "And when they're fully grown, their poison takes four to six hours to kill."</p><p>Jeno just stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted, before the expression dissolved into something softer. That didn't chase away all the worry Jaemin had hoped would slowly ebb from his eyes like receding tides, but it was arguably all he could get right now. "I'm guessing that doesn't apply to you?" Jeno asks softly, and Jaemin shakes his head. "The doctor said hanahaki makes flowers act different when they grow in your system," He pouts, acting almost childish. "The poison took way longer to act because it grew with me or something."</p><p>Jeno laughs, before the loud screeching of the door effectively silenced them all. Jisung entered, followed by Chenle, whose sweater was damp. Jaemin's eyes snap to the window, mouth falling open. It was raining, and he was missing it.</p><p>"Hyuck wants to talk to you," Chenle says quietly, reaching down and tugging Jeno's sleeve. Jaemin pretends to not notice the sharp glance Jeno throws at him, looking away from the silent argument that began to ensue between Chenle and Jeno, before the scraping of the chair against the floor was heard. "I'll be back," Jeno announced, and Jaemin acknowledges it with a nod, watching as the two of them left and the door swung shut.</p><p>There is silence in the room, broken only by the thrumming of the rain against the windowsill. Jaemin was just pondering as to whether a nurse or doctor would scold him for opening the window, before Jisung asks, "What did the doctor say?"</p><p>Jaemin looked at him, surveying the younger, who held his phone loosely within his fingers. "About?" He asked, and Jisung gave him a pointed look, which makes him smile lightly despite feeling his heart plummet.</p><p>"He said that the flower that's growing in here is poisonous," Jaemin says slowly. "Aconite is one of the most poisonous flowers in the world." "And it's growing in your lungs, because you fell in love with someone who doesn't love you back," Jisung clarifies. Jaemin blinks, before laughing. "Yeah," He agrees. "And I either get surgery or I die within a couple of weeks." He presses his fingers harder into his own sternum, staring down at his chest as if he could bore holes and peer into it by sheer force of will.</p><p>"But that's an easy choice to make, isn't it?" Jisung asks softly, leaning forward. Jaemin looks up, watching as hesitancy overcame Jisung, making the younger swallow nervously. "Unless you don't want to live anymore...?" He whispered, and Jaemin lets out an amalgamation of a sigh and laugh, lips curving downwards slightly.</p><p>"I want to be with you guys forever, Jisung," Jaemin says gently. "Then why are you taking so long to decide if you want the surgery or not?" Jisung asks eyes widening, and Jaemin realises he's scared.</p><p>Jisung is scared, and that makes his heart hurt. More than the poison that bubbles through his veins, mixed with his blood like it has been for months. "You-you-if it's bad enough that you'll die within weeks if you don't get it now, why aren't you just, just-" Jisung is stammering, visibly frustrated, hands shaking as he clenched his phone hard, and Jaemin feels tears prick the corner of his eyes.</p><p>"There are many flowers in the world," Jaemin says, pursing his lips. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes at Jaemin. "Some are poisonous, some aren't," He continues, ignoring the weird look Jisung was giving him now. "And the more painful a love is, the more pain the person with the broken heart feels, the more poisonous the flowers in your body grow until they choke your lungs and you can no longer breathe."</p><p>Boom!</p><p>Jisung flinches, eyes darting to the window, the thunder rattling the panes and glass as lightning flashes, white bolts of Zeus against the dark canvas of black storm clouds. Jaemin briefly wondered if the sky is crying for his loss, mourning what he would have to give up to live.</p><p>"The more poisonous a flower is, the higher the risks of the surgery become," He says, eyes fixed on the raindrops that roll down the glass, before turning back to Jisung with a sad smile he hoped would convey his regret and sorrow. "Jisung, if I get that surgery, there is a 90% chance I will walk out of there devoid of the ability to ever love something again." He watches the younger's face morph into befuddlement and then realisation before Jisung sank down into the chair further.</p><p>"It doesn't seem like a big deal." Jaemin shrugs. "I would give up anything to stay alive and stay with you guys, but a life without even being able to feel love doesn't seem the best."</p><p>"But what about other emotions?" Jisung asks, his voice small. Jaemin pauses, before nodding. "I can feel them," He says. "Just not love. Any type of love."</p><p>"Then it doesn't matter." Jisung sits up straighter. "You can be happy with us, you don't have to love us because we already know how you feel." Jaemin looks at him, smiling gently as he rested his cheek on his palm, adoration flickering in his chest like a candle flame, gradually growing bigger for the younger. "Jisung-"</p><p>"No, you're not going to die because of that," Jisung says furiously, standing up. "It-I-We love you enough for the both of us, you need to stay with us, you can't not have the surgery because of that-that-" "Jisung," Jaemin interrupts calmly. "I'll get the surgery."</p><p>Jisung freezes, blinking. "Oh," He says. "Oh, okay. Cool." He collapses back into the chair, burying his face into palms. Jaemin waits patiently, even when he knew each second trickling past was just resulting in the vines tightening their death grip a tad bit around his lungs. Still, he waits, because he is just as scared as Jisung was. He lets the younger attempt to collect himself in silence, trying to act as calm as he possibly can, himself.</p><p>Jisung peeks at him through his fingers, before sighing. "You'll be alright, right?" He asks, and Jaemin sees the first tear fall, watching as it hits the ground and splash. "Yeah," He says with a heavy tongue, not moving his eyes away from where the tear had fallen. "I'll be okay."</p><p>He doesn't want to imagine life without feeling something warm flutter in his chest when Jeno is particularly touchy one night. He doesn't want to imagine not being able to feel affection crash down upon him with the force of ten tidal waves as he annoys Renjun by pressing a kiss to his cheek, or when Jisung does something endearingly stupid again like blowing up the bathtub and emerging out of the bathroom with a face covered in soot and large eyes staring guiltily at Jaemin. He can't imagine not feeling the strong urge to pull Donghyuck in for a long hug when the other cooked for him after they won a race, or when Chenle bounds into his room and forces him to start a Disney movie marathon in secret.</p><p>He still never found out where Chenle even got those old DVDs, certainly not seeming any poorer after walking into the mall and walking out. He'd have to ask him later.</p><p>Later.</p><p>There is the comfort of a later, of an after - after the surgery, after this night, after this week, after this month. There is always an after, filled with happiness, sadness, anger, fear, but no love.</p><p>Is that really worth it? Would an eternity with his friends be worth it if he can't feel the love he had once held for them? As he looks up at Jisung, who was already staring at him as if he is observing someone he was seeing for the first time, he thinks that it's better than nothing.</p><p> </p><p>"Tell him now, or I will." He hears Donghyuck say as he pauses near the door. "What's the point?" He hears Jeno argue, and the raw anger in his voice reminds him of red sparks and blooming bruises. A visually perfect picture for something so dangerous. "It could help, knowing he has something to come back to!" He hears Donghyuck raise his voice. "You know he's worried about losing it, but this has worked before!"</p><p>"It won't hurt to just tell him either," He hears Renjun interject calmingly, so unlike the wild, fiery boy who could rival Donghyuck in the spitfire insults. Their family is fire - sometimes calm, a soft campfire that keeps others warm on cold nights and makes them feel safe, other times a raging bonfire that hisses and spits in the face of any intruder. "You were planning on telling him at some point, anyway."</p><p>He wonders if Renjun is tired, and feels a twinge of guilt, but he finds he regrets nothing. He doesn't regret ever kissing Jaehyun, being held, having his heartbroken, nothing. He doesn't regret all the times Donghyuck dragged him out the 127 races just so that he could mock Mark, and Jaemin would take the time to actually appreciate the beauty that was car racing, and maybe the drivers too. He doesn't regret Jeno finding him, he doesn't regret every tender hug and gentle kiss pressed to his cheek when the pain got too much sometimes.</p><p>Jaemin doesn't regret anything, but he wonders if he should. Even conjuring the picture of Jaehyun's face in his head makes him double over, gasping for breath, and he knows his clock is ticking. He straightens up when Jisung notices, rushing over to guide him. He knows there's blood on his tongue, flecking his lips and sticking to the insides of his throat, but he can't bring himself to particularly care, waving off Jisung's attempts at handing him a tissue.</p><p>Jaemin straightens up and pulls the door back, the four boys behind it whirling to face him with surprise. Renjun's face splits into a smile and he steps forward, but Jaemin has his eyes fixed on Jeno alone, and they seem to realise this. "Tell me what?" He rasps, and Jeno arches an eyebrow.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Jaemin sees Chenle usher Jisung, Renjun and Donghyuck away, throwing the excuse of going to get snacks over his shoulder before they disappear down the corridor. Jeno watches them leave, letting out a snort when Jisung around the corner before turning back to Jaemin.</p><p>"It's nothing," He says, and Jaemin narrows his eyes. "Don't lie," He crosses his arms over his chest, and Jeno laughs, stepping forward. "You have blood on your lips," He says, holding Jaemin's chin firmly with his fingers. "And you're not telling me something," Jaemin retorts.</p><p>Jeno fixes his eyes on Jaemin's own, cold and dark. "You don't get to talk about keeping secrets, Na," He says smoothly, and Jaemin's heart lurches at that. He drops his eyes, keeping them pointedly fixed on the line of stitches along the shoulder of Jeno's jacket. "I know," He whispers. "I'm sorry about that. I just didn't want everyone to worry."</p><p>Jeno shakes his head, gripping his chin tighter and lifting it up, forcing Jaemin to look at him. Jeno looked angry but exhausted. He looked sad, he looked hurt, he looked scared. He looked like everything Jaemin never wanted him to, and he felt horrible that it turned out like that anyways.</p><p>"With the same logic," Jeno says slowly, releasing Jaemin, hand falling limply to his side, "I can say I don't want you to worry about this."</p><p>"Is it life-threatening?" Jaemin asked pointedly, and Jeno blinks in surprise, before laughing. "No," He says, his smile fading. "But Donghyuck says it could save your life." Jaemin watches as Jeno's jaw tenses, the way he eyes the empty corridor, the steadily increasing rising and falling of his chest.</p><p>He grabs Jeno's hand, thumbing over the knuckles, effectively drawing Jeno's attention back to him. "You don't have to tell me, I'm okay with not knowing," Jaemin says, and Jeno's eyes drop down to where Jaemin interlaced their fingers. "No," He says. "I'd never forgive myself if it's something that could have saved you."</p><p>Jaemin stares at him expectantly, but Jeno doesn't even look at him, keeping his eyes fixed on their intertwined fingers. He releases a shaky breath, and if Jaemin tightened his fingers ever so slightly, he'd be able to feel Jeno's racing pulse.</p><p>"I-" Jeno's breath hitches and he lets out a groan, leaning forward and letting his forehead fall on Jaemin's clavicle with a dull thunk. He feels Jeno wince lightly, making him snicker as he brings his free hand up to gently pet the back of his head. "I'm just nervous," Jeno whispers. "It's me," Jaemin reminds him, and Jeno's fingers tighten around his. "That's why it's scary," He says, letting out a breath, and Jaemin merely rests his chin on the top of the other's head, humming in acknowledgement.</p><p>Seconds pass, turning into minutes, both of them standing in silence in the hallway. Jaemin briefly thinks if he died right then and there, it wouldn't be so bad. He'd be going while having the most precious person in the world in his arms, someone who stuck by him through thick and thin, someone he would readily offer to, even if it meant having to rip the sun out of the sky and plunge the entire world into eternal darkness.</p><p>The realisation is nothing like the icy winds that feel knives against his cheeks, that nip at every bit of exposed skin as he would crusade on his bike through the streets at the break of dawn. It's as gentle as a summer breeze, a fleeting kiss on the cheek, a warm breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.</p><p>He is in love with Lee Jeno.</p><p>It's like the edges of his vision sharpen a bit more, and he lets out a sigh, laughter bubbling in his chest where the very same flowers blossom, not allowing him to suck in enough oxygen to survive, the consequence of falling for another man. He thinks it's always been at the back of his mind, as easy as easing himself into a warm bath and going under, where all noise and sound is blocked out.</p><p>It just makes sense, just like it does when Jeno untangles himself from the mess that is the two of them. Jaemin observes him in silence, eyes roaming over the same sharp edges, light bouncing off the planes of his face, the same plush red lips and round eyes that sparkled in the night and looked warm in the sunlight. He was still his Lee Jeno, and it wasn't a mind-blowing, world stopping realisation. It was a fact he had always known.</p><p>Just like now, when Jeno finally looks him in the eye, and says with dead seriousness, "I love you, in love with you. And I have been for a long time."</p><p>Jaemin simply smiles, tilts his head, and opens his arms, whispering, "I know. I think I always knew."</p><p>All the tension seems to ebb out of Jeno at the phrase, and there is no panic that rises in Jaemin's chest as he wonders if flowers bloom in Jeno's chest too, because he knows, and so does Jeno. An unspoken fact imprinted on the sheets of the bed they shared together, the gloves that they wore on their hands as they high-fived after every ride, across the subframes of their first motorcycles and every memory they've shared. Jaemin has always loved Jeno, Jeno has always loved Jaemin, and the universe decided to grant the devil the gift of sight to see sparks before the sinner.</p><p>Jeno lurches forward, wrapping his arms around Jaemin's waist and pulling him in tightly. Jaemin always thought of Jeno to be his other half, his best friend, the sun to his earth, the barren field to his flowers, the canvas to his art, and even stupider lines of the brakes and throttle to his motorcycle, which the two of them spent several tipsy nights giggling over.</p><p>"I don't have hanahaki," The other whispers into the crook of his neck, and Jaemin sucks in a breath. "I know," He tightens his arms around Jeno's waist. "But I do, because I'm selfish and couldn't see what was right in front of me." He watches as Jeno leans back, arms loosening their hold around his torso as his eyes flicker over Jaemin's face, before resting on his lips.</p><p>"Using that logic," Jeno says slowly, as if afraid to break the fragile air of vulnerability between the two of them, "I'm selfish too." His eyes flickered up to Jaemin and back to his lips. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered. Jaemin's breath hitched, and he nodded.</p><p>Jeno brought a hand up, thumb gently swiping at the drying blood on his mouth he'd forgotten about, gently pulling his lower lip down. Before Jaemin could register anything else, he felt a warm mouth press against his, a hand cupping his cheek as another positioned itself on his back and he was pushed back to the wall gently.</p><p>Kissing Jeno felt like galaxies bursting into existence, swirls of colour burning themselves onto the back of his eyelids. It felt like wildfire and electricity, it felt like red silk and lush velvet, heat and heart, fury and longing. Jeno was a storm, Jaemin was his calm, and Jaemin was a star while Jeno was fuel.</p><p>It was all-consuming, and with his fingers tangled in the other's hair, tugging lightly on the roots, Jaemin forgot his need for air until Jeno's tongue swiped against the seam of his mouth, making him open his eyes and pull away. "Blood in my mouth," He whispered, and Jeno chuckled darkly, pressing back in.</p><p>"Know you have someone to come back to," He whispers into his mouth. "And that I'll love you, regardless of whether you come back to me with your heart intact or forever gone." Jaemin's breath hitches again when Jeno presses the softest butterfly kisses across the line of his jaw, before pressing one to the back of his ear, making him jolt, a noise of surprise leaving his lips. Jeno looks at him, holding his face between his hands, before placing another on his nose, and then his forehead, where Jaemin can feel the lingering touch of his lips against his skin.</p><p>"You're my everything, Na Jaemin," Jeno looks at him, and he smiles, that endearing, bloody awful eye smile that makes Jaemin's heart do backflips in his chest. "You're my eternity, so don't even think about second-guessing coming back to me."</p><p>"You really can't get rid of me that easily," Jaemin snorts jokingly, before pulling Jeno in for one more kiss. I'm sorry, he tries to tell the other. I'm sorry I loved someone else while loving you, I'm sorry this ever happened, I'm so sorry-</p><p>"I'm sorry," He mumbles against Jeno's lips, and his little devil startles, before biting down harshly on his lower lip, making Jaemin pinch his side in retaliation. Jeno scoffs, before whispering, "You don't have anything to be sorry for," and that's the end of that.</p><p>Even when Jaemin goes into the room, as the needle pricks his skin, as he stares into the blinding light right over his eyes and sends out his last prayers to any entity out there, its Jeno imprinted on the back of eyelids, its Jeno's touch that lingers of his fingers and arms, on his face and lips, and it's Jeno he wants to see the most when he walks out of the room.</p><p>He wonders if the aconite in his lungs will go away now, and he wonders if he'll be okay now. Deep down, he knows the answers are yes and yes.</p><p>As he sinks into the arms of sleep, he dreams of golden skin against his in the late evening and soft kisses down his spine as he moans and cries out into silk-covered pillows, which then fades into an eye smile he wakes up to nearly every morning and strong arms that wrap around his torso, whoops of joy carried away by the wind as they drive down the highway into the sunset, and then it's just him. He's alone, with just the whistling of the wind, the flapping of his jacket, and the thrumming of his motorcycle, as he leaps straight into the molten sun that dips between the mountains and encases him in liquid gold. It's searingly hot, but he feels loved, warm and safe.</p><p>Eventually, he feels it sliding off, and then, dark oblivion he welcomes with a smile. His chest feels lighter, and he feels happier.</p><p>Briefly, he thinks that he'll be okay, and then, nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin feels irrevocably empty.</p><p>It's like his chest is a chasm, an abyss with no bottom, a gaping hole that's widening until he'll be ripped in half by that. "Patients usually feel that way after the surgery," the nurse tells him sweetly as he helps him into his room. Kun, his name tag reads.</p><p>"Even the ones who can still love?" He asks hesitatingly, and the look on Kun's face answers it all. Jaemin finds himself spending the next two days in utter solitude, lying back on his bed as he stares at the ceiling, or merely stares at the window, watching the clouds float by and wondering what it would feel like to fly up there, all while his body tries to adjust to this feeling of sudden emptiness. "Some patients have it worse than others," Kun says as he lays down the tray of food. "Love is such a fickle thing, isn't it?"</p><p>"Have you ever been in love?" Jaemin asks, and the apples of Kun's cheeks rise as he smiles, showing the younger the delicate gold band around his ring finger. "His name is Ten," Kun says, and he ruffles Jaemin's hair. "He survived hanahaki too, and he's pretty well off now, having me as his husband and all," Kun winks, and that makes Jaemin laugh.</p><p>At night, he rolls onto his side and stares out the window, thinks of Jisung, Renjun, Chenle, and Donghyuck. He feels nothing, except the cold arms of hopelessness wrapping themselves around his body and dragging him to the bottom of misery as he curls up into a ball, desperately scrabbling around in his memory to remember just exactly what loving them felt like.</p><p>He thinks of Jeno, with his messy dark locks, twinkling brown eyes, with his bad jokes that were honestly funny, with his high-pitched laugh and the way he'd blush sometimes when he gets an unexpected compliment. He thinks of the stone-cold boy who was actually the biggest cuddler ever. He even thinks of Jaehyun, with his dimpled smile and a laugh that sounded like wind chimes, even though that image just fades back to Jeno.</p><p>He still feels so, so very empty.</p><p>He tells Kun this, and the nurse's eyebrow rises in surprise. "You remember who you loved?" He asks, and Jaemin nods miserably. Kun's face lights up and he leans down and shakes Jaemin's shoulder lightly. "That's better than most patients, Jaemin," Kun says patiently. "You might be able to recover completely, then."</p><p>Jaemin stares desolately into his bowl of food, thanking Kun quietly as he tries to ignore the older's words bouncing around in his mind. He couldn't afford to have the golden seeds of hope planted, only to be rewarded with parasitic weeds. Jaemin is tired, and he wants to go home. Two days turn into three, three turn into four, and the doctors see no improvement in his condition except the wound across his chest, which was healing nicely.</p><p>He doesn't see any of the boys either, and he worries that something has happened to them, that they've abandoned him, left him behind, or that they might be hurt until Kun calms him down and tells him that they've been informed of his recovery, but the general procedure was to not allow interaction of the hanahaki patient with anyone other than doctors and staff for five days after their surgery in order to prevent any fatal relapses.</p><p>On the fifth day, Jisung willingly leaps into his arms and curls into his side on the bed despite Kun's warnings. Renjun seats himself by the bed, watching the two of them fondly, and tells Jaemin about Jeno.</p><p>"He's scared, I think," Renjun says. Jaemin stares out the window, watching the trees sway in the gentle breeze. "He should be," Jaemin replies. "Things could end badly for him if I don't recover."</p><p>They lapse into a still silence, until Jisung sniffles and asks, "Will you be able to recover your ability to love?" Jaemin looks down at the younger resting his head on his stomach, playing with the grey strands of the blanket. He considers lying, but he's had enough of that, so he shrugs, and says, "I really don't know."</p><p>On day six, Donghyuck and Chenle bring him a surprise visitor: Mark Lee. The boy looks excited to see him, a bag containing an extensive amount of chocolate in his hand. "Dude." He plonks himself on the chair beside Jaemin, who is still rather befuddled that the entrance of the older, throwing questioning looks to Donghyuck and Chenle every five seconds. "Hyuck was listing down all your favourite brands for me, and we have so many in common!" Mark sys endearingly, stupidly pretty eyes sparkling and mouth stretching into a wide grin. "Hyuck, huh?" Jaemin stares at Donghyuck, noting the tip of the other's ears turning red as he stares pointedly out the window. "I hope you don't mind us sharing this bag," Mark rummages through it as he speaks. "I took the liberty of buying a lot, cause clearly, we're the only ones with good taste around here." With this, he raises his eyebrows at Chenle, who lets out an offended screech in protest. "It is not my fault you guys associate mint chocolate with toothpaste!" He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>"No offence, Chenle," Donghyuck says slowly, "But mint is literally the most popular toothpaste flavour ever." "Oh, but I heard it was, like, a scam," Mark said through a mouthful of chocolate. "Apparently mint extract is used because it makes your gums tingle so you think the toothpaste is working without knowing if it's actually working or not."</p><p>Jaemin stares at him open-mouthed, and Mark flushes red. "Don't look at me like that," He mumbles. "I just read a lot of random things, okay?" "You can read?" Donghyuck asks with exaggerated surprise all over his face, and Mark whacks the boy's thigh with no hesitation.</p><p>Jaemin decides then and there he absolutely adores Mark, makes sure Mark knows this, and welcomes him to the family because anyone who could put Donghyuck in his place was their friend. "Thanks, man," Mark laughs. "Truly honoured."</p><p>They talk about everything and nothing that day. Mark tells him how Seungcheol tried to take over the area the Dreamers had won from them and how Johnny hurled a helmet as a warning to get out of the area, but he'd accidentally thrown it so hard at one of the boys that they toppled off their bike when it hit them squarely in the chest. Jaemin snorted at that, and told Mark to thank the older for him. There was no mention of either Jaehyun or Jeno that day, and Jaemin didn't know if he was grateful for that or not.</p><p>That night, he fell asleep an hour early, and the emptiness didn't feel so unusual anymore.</p><p>The next morning was his seventh and last day at the hospital, as reminded cheerfully by Kun. He stared at the long, ugly scar across his chest as he changed his shirt. Apparently, it'd healed well, but Jaemin couldn't help his grimace every time he saw where the long incision was made. A rather large amount of aconite in there, Kun had told him. "We're very surprised you didn't die."</p><p>Jaemin just gave him a smile, before bidding goodbye to the man and walking through the corridors, out into the gardens. It's peaceful, with the rare human passing by, the chirping of the birds, the sound of the water fountain, but Jaemin still feels restless.</p><p>Until he turns around and stares as the gates to the hospital swing open. In steps Jeno, thanking the security guard before making his way up the road, his jaw dropping when he sees Jaemin.</p><p>He looks the same, and suddenly, Jaemin feels the same.</p><p>"Jaemin?" Jeno tilts his head, unsure. "Jeno," Jaemin breathes out, his exhale coming out as a shudder. "Jeno," He calls out louder,  and then he's running towards the boy, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down to kiss him, whispering his name into his mouth fervently because it's been too long without him. He feels warmth stir in his chest as Jeno tugs his hips forward.</p><p>He pulls away for a second before leaning back in, and he refuses to let go. He smiles into the kiss with a sigh of contentment when Jeno pulls him into a tighter embrace.</p><p>Jeno is breathless, Jaemin can tell, so he pulls away leaning forward to connect their foreheads together. "I love you." He whispers, like it's secret and not a fact he would emblazon across azure skies or something that is imprinted in every red string of fate that runs in the universe to ensure order and peace, because without Jeno, Jaemin is precariously off-balance, tilted on his axis, and never the same. Jeno stares at him, before hands hold his jaw and tilt his chin upwards as Jeno slots their lips together on more time. "I love you too," He whispers, and Jaemin smiles because he knows.</p><p>He knows that he isn't himself without Jeno, Jeno isn't himself without him, and when this fact is sealed with another hundred kisses, Jaemin notices warmth flickers in his chest. The emptiness is gone like it was never there in the first place, and he finally feels whole again.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>